A  ROMANCE  OF  THE 
GREAT  WAR 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


THERE  WAS  SOMETHING  SINISTER  AND  THREATENING  ABOUT  THOSE 
ROOFLESS.  BLACKENED  WALLS. 


THE  GIRL 
FROM  ALSACE 

A  ROMANCE  OF  THE  GREAT  WAR 


Originally  Published  under  the  title  of 

LITTLE  COMRADE 


BY 

BURTON  E.,  STEVENSON 


NEW   YORK 

GROSSET    &    DUNLAP 

PUBLISHERS 


COPYRIGHT,  1914. 

BY 
1WXTON  E.  STEVENSON 

COPYRIGHT.  1915. 

BY 
HBNRY  HOLT  AND  COMPANY 

P**hshed  March,   191S 


?5 


PUBLISHER'S  NOTE 


Thfc  Story  of  THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

The  book  was  originally  published  under  the  title 
of  LITTLE  COMRADE.  It  has  been  changed  to  THE 
GIRL  FROM  ALSACE,  as  the  publishers  considered 
that  name  as  better  descriptive  of  the  character  of 
the  story.  The  dramatic  elements  of  the  story  led 
to  its  being  put  in  play  form,  and  it  became  the 
theatrical  success  entitled  ARMS  AND  THE  GIRL, 
with  Fay  Painter  and  Cyril  Scott  playing  the  lead 
ing  roles.  It  has  also  been  produced  as  a  photo 
play  by  the  World  Film  Company  under  the  title 
ON  DANGEROUS  GROUND,  featuring  Carlyle  Black- 
well  and  Gail  Kane,  and  is  being  widely  shown 
throughout  the  country. 


1562957 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER 

I.    THE  THIRTY-FIRST  OF  JULY 
II.    THE    FIRST   RUMBLINGS 

III.  "STATE  OF  WAR" 

IV.  THE  MYSTERY  OF  THE  SATIN  SLIPPERS    .  52 
V.    ONE  WAY  TO  ACQUIRE  A  WIFB      .       .  59 

VI.    THE  SNARE 80 

VII.    IN  THE  TRAP  ......  102 

VIII.    PRESTO!    CHANGE! 130 

IX.    THE  FRONTIER 151 

X.    FORTUNE  FROWNS 172 

XI.    THE  NIGHT  ATTACK     .       .      .      .       .  196 

XII.    AN  ARMY  IN  ACTION 214 

XIII.  THE  PASSAGE  OF  THE  MEUSB      .       .       .  234 

XIV.  THE   LAST  DASH 249 

XV.    DISASTER 267 

XVI.  A  TRUST  FULFILLED      .      .      ...  285 

XVII.  "LITTLE  COMRADE"         .....  312 


THE    GIRL    FROM 
ALSACE 

CHAPTER  I 
THE  THIRTY-FIRST  OF  JULY 

"  LET  us  have  coffee  on  the  terrace,"  Bloem  sug 
gested,  and,  as  his  companion  nodded,  lifted  a  finger 
to  the  waiter  and  gave  the  order. 

Both  were  a  little  sad,  for  this  was  their  last 
meal  together.  Though  they  had  known  each  other 
less  than  a  fortnight,  they  had  become  fast  friends. 
They  had  been  thrown  together  by  chance  at  the 
surgical  congress  at  Vienna,  where  Bloem,  finding 
the  American's  German  lame  and  halting,  had  con 
stituted  himself  a  sort  of  interpreter,  and  Stewart 
had  reciprocated  by  polishing  away  some  of  the 
roughnesses  and  Teutonic  involutions  of  Bloem's 
formal  English. 

When  the  congress  ended,  they  had  journeyed 
back  together  in  leisurely  fashion  through  Germany, 
spending  a  day  in  medieval  Nuremberg,  another  in 
odorous  Wiirzburg,  and  a  third  in  mountain- 
shadowed  Heidelberg,  where  Bloem  had  sought  Ctrl 


2  THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

some  of  his  old  comrades  and  initiated  his  American 
friend  into  the  mysteries  of  an  evening  session  in 
the  Hirschgasse.  Then  they  had  turned  northward 
,to  Mayence,  and  so  down  the  terraced  Rhine  to 
Cologne.  Here  they  were  to  part,  Bloem  to  return  to 
his  work  at  Elberfeld,  Stewart  for  a  week  or  two  in 
Brussels  and  Paris,  and  then  home  to  America, 

Bloem's  train  was  to  leave  in  an  hour,  and  it  was 
the  consciousness  of  this  that  kept  them  silent  until 
their  waiter  came  to  tell  them  that  their  coffee  was 
served.  As  they  followed  him  through  the  hall,  a 
tall  man  in  the  uniform  of  a  captain  of  infantry 
entered  from  the  street.  His  eyes  brightened  as  he 
caught  sight  of  Bloem. 

"  Ach,  Hermann !  "  he  cried. 

Bloem,  turning,  stopped  an  instant  for  a  burlesque 
salute,  then  threw  himself  into  the  other's  arms. 
A  moment  later,  he  was  dragging  him  forward  to 
introduce  him  to  Stewart. 

"  My  cousin,"  he  cried,  "  Ritter  Bloem,  a  soldier 
as  you  see — a  great  fire-eater!  Cousin,  this  is  my 
friend,  Dr.  Bradford  Stewart,  whom  I  had  the  good 
fortune  to  meet  at  Vienna." 

"  I  am  pleased  to  know  you,  sir,"  said  the  cap 
tain,  shaking  hands  and  speaking  excellent  Eng 
lish. 


THE  THIRTY-FIRST  OF  JULY        3 

"  You  must  join  us,"  Bloem  interposed.  "  We  are 
just  going  to  have  coffee  on  the  terrace.  Come,"  and 
he  caught  the  other  by  the  arm. 

But  the  captain  shook  his  head. 

"  No,  I  cannot  come,"  he  said ;  "  really  I  can 
not,  much  as  I  should  like  to  do  so.  Dr.  Stewart,"  he 
added,  a  little  hesitatingly,  "  I  trust  you  will  not 
think  me  discourteous  if  I  take  my  cousin  aside  for 
a  moment." 

"  Certainly  not,"  Stewart  assured  him. 

"  I  will  join  you  on  the  terrace,"  said  Bloem,  and 
Stewart,  nodding  good-by  to  the  captain,  followed 
the  waiter,  who  had  stood  by  during  this  exchange 
of  greetings,  and  now  led  the  way  to  a  little  table 
at  one  corner  of  the  broad  balcony  looking  out  over 
the  square. 

"  Shall  I  pour  the  coffee,  sir  ?  "  he  asked,  as  Stew 
art  sat  down. 

"  No ;  I  will  wait  for  my  companion,"  and,  as 
the  waiter  bowed  and  stepped  back,  Stewart  leaned 
*  forward  with  a  deep  breath  of  admiration. 

Below  him  lay  the  green  level  of  the  Domhof,  its 
close-clipped  trees  outlined  stiffly  against  the  lights 
behind  them.  Beyond  rose  the  choir  of  the  great 
cathedral,  with  its  fretted  pinnacles,  and  flying  but- 


4  THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

tresses,  and  towering  roof.  By  day,  he  had  found 
its  exterior  somewhat  cold  and  bare  and  formal, 
lacking  somehow  the  subtle  spirit  of  true  Gothic; 
but  nothing  could  be  more  beautiful  than  it  was 
now,  shimmering  in  the  moonlight,  bathed  in  lumi-\ 
nous  shadow,  lace-like  and  mysterious. 

He  was  still  absorbed  in  this  fairy  vision  when 
Bloem  rejoined  him.  Even  in  the  half-light  of  the 
terrace,  Stewart  could  see  that  he  was  deeply  moved. 
His  face,  usually  glowing  with  healthy  color, 
was  almost  haggard;  his  eyes  seemed  dull  and 
sunken. 

"No  bad  news,   I  hope?"   Stewart  asked. 

Without  answering  him,  Bloem  signaled  the 
waiter  to  pour  the  coffee,  and  sat  watching  him  in 
silence. 

"  That  will  do,"  he  said  in  German ;  "  we  will 
ring  if  we  have  need  of  you."  Then,  as  the  waiter 
withdrew,  he  glanced  nervously  about  the  terrace. 
It  was  deserted  save  for  a  noisy  group  around  a 
table  at  the  farther  end.  "  There  is  very  bad  news, 
my  friend,"  he  added,  almost  in  a  whisper.  "  There 
is  going  to  be — war !  " 

Stewart  stared  for  an  instant,  astonished  at  the 
gravity  of  his  tone.  Then  he  nodded  compre- 
hendingly. 


THE  THIRTY-FIRST  OF  JULY         5 

"  Yes,"  he  said ;  "  I  had  not  thought  of  it ;  but  I 
suppose  a  war  between  Austria  and  Servia  will  af 
fect  Germany  more  or  less.  Only  I  was  hoping  the 
Powers  would  interfere  and  stop  it." 

"  It  seems  it  cannot  be  stopped,"  said  Bloem, 
gloomily.  "  Russia  is  mobilizing  to  assist  Servia. 
Austria  is  Germany's  ally,  and  so  Germany  must 
come  to  her  aid.  Unless  Russia  stops  her  mobiliza 
tion,  we  shall  declare  war  against  her.  Our  army 
has  already  been  called  to  the  colors." 

Stewart  breathed  a  little  deeper. 

"  But  perhaps  Russia  will  desist  when  she  real 
izes  her  danger,"  he  suggested.  "  She  must  know 
she  is  no  match  for  Germany." 

"  She  does  know  it,"  Bloem  agreed ;  "  but  she 
also  knows  that  she  will  not  fight  alone.  It  is  not 
against  Russia  we  are  mobilizing — it  is  against 
France." 

"  Against  France  ?  "  echoed  the  other.  "  But 
surely " 

"  Do  not  speak  so  loud,  I  beg  of  you,"  Bloem 
cautioned.  "  What  I  am  telling  you  is  not  yet  gen 
erally  known — perhaps  the  dreadful  thing  we  fear 
will  not  happen,  after  all.  But  France  is  Russia's 
ally — she  will  be  eager  for  war — for  forty  years  she 
has  been  preparing  for  this  moment." 


6  THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

"  Yes,"  agreed  Stewart,  smiling,  "  I  have  heard 
of  '  la  revanche  ' ;  I  have  seen  the  mourning  wreaths 
on  the  Strassburg  monument.  I  confess,"  he  added, 
"  that  I  sympathize  with  France's  dream  of  regain 
ing  her  lost  provinces.  So  do  most  Americans.  We 
are  a  sentimental  people." 

"  I,  too,  sympathize  with  that  dream,"  said  Bloem, 
quickly,  "  or  at  least  I  understand  it.  So  do  many 
Germans.  We  have  come  to  realize  that  the  seizure 
of  Alsace  and  Lorraine,  however  justified  by  history, 
was  in  effect  a  terrible  mistake.  We  should  have 
been  generous  in  our  hour  of  triumph — that  way 
lay  a  chance  of  friendship  with  a  people  whose  pride 
remained  unbroken  by  disaster.  Instead,  we  chose 
to  heap  insults  upon  a  conquered  foe,  and  we  have 
reaped  a  merited  reward  of  detestation.  Ironically 
enough,  those  provinces  which  cost  us  so  much  have 
been  to  us  a  source  of  weakness,  not  of  strength. 
We  have  had  to  fortify  them,  to  police  them,  to 
hold  them  in  stern  repression.  Even  yet,  they  must 
be  treated  as  conquered  ground.  You  do  not  know 
— you  cannot  realize — what  that  means ! "  He 
stared  out  gloomily  into  the  night.  "  I  have  served 
there,"  he  added,  hoarsely. 

There  was  something  in  his  tone  which  sent  a 
shiver  across  Stewart's  scalp,  as  though  he  had 


THE  THIRTY-FIRST  OF  JULY         7 

found  himself  suddenly  at  the  brink  of  a  horrible 
abyss  into  which  he  dared  not  turn  his  eyes.  He 
fancied  he  could  see  in  his  companion's  somber  face 
the  stirring  of  ghastly  memories,  of  tragic  experi 
ence 

"  But  since  France  has  not  yet  declared  war,"  he 
said  at  last,  "  surely  you  will  wait " 

"  Ah,  my  friend,"  Bloem  broke  in,  "  we  cannot 
afford  to  wait.  We  must  strike  quickly  and  with  all 
our  strength.  There  is  no  secret  as  to  Germany's 
plan — France  must  be  crushed  under  a  mighty  blow 
before  she  can  defend  herself;  after  that  it  will  be 
Russia's  turn." 

"And  after  that?" 

"After  that?  After  that,  we  shall  seize  more 
provinces  and  exact  more  huge  indemnities — and 
add  just  so  much  to  our  legacy  of  fear  and  hatred! 
We  are  bound  to  a  wheel  from  which  we  cannot 
escape." 

Stewart  looked  dazedly  out  over  the  lighted 
square. 

"  I  can't  understand  it,"  he  said,  at  last.  "  I  don't 
understand  how  such  things  can  be.  They  aren't 
possible.  They're  too  terrible  to  be  true.  This  is  a 
civilized  world — such  things  can  never  happen — 
humanity  won't  endure  it ! " 


8  THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

Bloem  passed  a  trembling  hand  before  his  eyes,  as 
a  man  awaking  from  a  horrid  dream. 

"  Let  us  hope  so,  at  least,"  he  said.  "  But  I  am 
afraid;  I  shake  with  fear!  Europe  is  topheavy 
under  the  burden  of  her  awful  armaments ;  now,  or 
at  some  future  time,  she  must  come  tumbling  down ; 
she  must — she  must — "  he  paused,  searching  for  a 
word — "  she  must  crumble.  Perhaps  that  time  has 
come." 

"  I  don't  believe  it,"  Stewart  protested,  stoutly. 
"  Some  day  she  will  realize  the  insane  folly  of  this 
armament,  and  it  will  cease." 

"I  wish  I  could  believe  so,"  said  Bloem,  sadly; 
"  but  you  do  not  know,  my  friend,  how  we  here  in 
Germany,  for  example,  are  weighed  down  by  mili 
tarism.  You  do  not  know  the  arrogance,  the  igno 
rance,  the  narrow-mindedness  of  the  military  caste. 
They  do  nothing  for  Germany — they  add  nothing  to 
her  art,  her  science,  or  her  literature — they  add  noth 
ing  to  her  wealth — they  destroy  rather  than  build 
up — and  yet  it  is  they  who  rule  Germany  We  are  a 
pacific  people,  we  love  our  homes  and  a  quiet  life; 
we  are  not  a  military  people,  and  yet  every  man  in 
Germany  must  march  to  war  when  the  word  is 
given.  We  ourselves  have  no  voict  in  the  matter. 
We  have  only  to  obey." 


THE  THIRTY-FIRST  OF  JULY        9 

"  Obey  whom  ?  "  asked  Stewart. 

"  The  Ernperor,"  answered  Bloem,  bitterly. 
"  With  all  our  progress,  my  friend,  with  all  our 
development  in  science  and  industry,  with  all  our 
'literature  and  art,  with  all  our  philosophy,  we  still 
live  in  a  medieval  State,  ruled  by  a  king  who  believes 
himself  divinely  appointed,  who  can  do  no  wrong, 
and  who,  in  time  of  war  at  least,  has  absolute  power 
over  us.  And  the  final  decision  as  to  war  or  peace 
is  wholly  in  his  hands.  Understand  I  do  not  com 
plain  of  the  Emperor;  he  has  done  great  things  for 
Germany;  he  has  often  cast  his  influence  for  peace. 
But  he  is  surrounded  by  aristocrats  intent  only  on 
maintaining  their  privileges,  who  are  terrified  by 
the  growth  of  democratic  ideas;  who  believe  that  the 
only  way  to  checkmate  democracy  is  by  a  great  war. 
It  is  they  who  preach  the  doctrine  of  blood  and  iron ; 
who  hold  that  Caesar  is  sacrosanct.  The  Emperor 
struggles  against  them ;  but  some  day  they  will  prove 
too  strong  for  him.  Besides,  he  himself  believes  in 
blood  and  iron;  he  hates  democracy  as  bitterly  as 
anyone,  for  it  denies  the  divine  right  of  kings!" 
He  stopped  suddenly,  his  finger  to  his  ear. 
"  Listen !  "  he  said. 

Down  the  street,  from  the  direction  of  the  river, 
came  a  low,  continuous  murmur,  as  of  the  wind 


io         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

among  the  leaves  of  a  forest;  then,  as  it  grew 
clearer,  it  resolved  itself  into  the  tramp,  tramp  of 
iron-shod  feet.  Bloem  leaned  far  forward  staring 
into  the  darkness ;  and  suddenly,  at  the  corner,  three 
mounted  officers  appeared;  then  a  line  of  soldiers 
wheeled  into  view;  then  another  and  another  and 
another,  moving  as  one  man.  The  head  of  the 
column  crossed  the  square,  passed  behind  the  church 
and  disappeared,  but  still  the  tide  poured  on  with 
slow  and  regular  undulation,  dim,  mysterious,  and 
threatening.  At  last  the  rear  of  the  column  came 
into  view,  passed,  disappeared ;  the  clatter  of  iron  on 
stone  softened  to  a  shuffle,  to  a  murmur,  died  away. 

With  a  long  breath,  Bloem  sat  erect  and  passed  his 
handkerchief  across  his  shining  forehead. 

"  There  is  one  battalion,"  he  said ;  "  one  unit 
composed  of  a  thousand  lesser  units — each  unit  a 
man  with  a  soul  like  yours  and  mine ;  with  hopes  and 
ambitions;  with  women  to  love  him;  and  now 
marching  to  death,  perhaps,  in  the  ranks  yonder 
without  in  the  least  knowing  why.  There  are  four 
million  such  units  in  the  army  the  Emperor  can 
call  into  the  field.  I  am  one  of  them — I  shall  march 
like  the  rest!" 

"  You ! " 

"  Yes — I  am  a  private  in  the  Elberfeld  battalion." 


THE  THIRTY-FIRST  OF  JULY       n 

He  spread  out  his  delicate,  sensitive,  surgeon's  hands 
and  looked  at  them.  "  I  was  at  one  time  a  ser 
geant,"  he  added,  "  but  my  discipline  did  not  satisfy 
my  lieutenant  and  I  was  reduced  to  the  ranks." 

Stewart  also  stared  at  those  beautiful  hands,  so 
expressive,  so  expert.  How  vividly  they  typified 
the  waste  of  war! 

"  But  it's  absurd,"  he  protested,  "  that  a  man  like 

,you — highly-trained,  highly-educated,  a  specialist — 

should  be  made  to  shoulder  a  rifle.    In  the  ranks,  you 

are  worth  no  more  than  the  most  ignorant  peasant." 

"  Not  so  much,"  corrected  Bloem.  "  Our  ideal 
soldier  is  one  whose  obedience  is  instant  and  unques 
tioning." 

"  But  why  are  you  not  placed  where  you  would  be 
most  efficient — in  the  hospital  corps,  perhaps  ?  " 

"  There  are  enough  old  and  middle-aged  surgeons 
for  that  duty.  Young  men  must  fight !  Besides,  I 
am  suspected  of  having  too  many  ideas !  " 

He  sat  for  a  moment  longer  staring  down  at  his 
hands— staring  too,  perhaps,  at  his  career  so  ruth 
lessly  shattered — then  he  shook  himself  together  and 
glanced  across  at  his  companion  with  a  wry  little 
smile. 

"  You  will  think  me  a  great  croaker !  "  he  said. 
"  It  was  the  first  shock — the  thought  of  everything 


12         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

going  to  pieces.    In  a  day  or  two,  I  shall  be  march 
ing  as  light-heartedly  as  all  the  others — knowing 
only  that  I  am  fighting  the  enemies  of  my  country — 
and  wishing  to  know  no  more !  " 
i     But  Stewart  did  not  answer  the  smile.    Confused 
.thoughts  were  flying  through  his  head — thoughts 
•which  he  struggled  to  compose  into  some  order  or 
sequence. 

Bloem  looked  at  him  for  a  moment,  and  his  smile 
grew  more  ironic. 

"  I  can  guess  what  is  in  your  mind,"  he  said. 
"  You  are  wondering  why  we  march  at  all — why  we 
offer  ourselves  as  cannon-fodder,  if  we  do  not  wish 
to  do  so.  You  are  thinking  of  defiances,  of  revolu 
tions.  But  there  will  never  be  a  revolution  in  Ger 
many — not  in  this  generation." 

"  Yes,  I  was  thinking  something  like  that," 
Stewart  agreed.  "  Why  will  there  be  no  revolu 
tion?" 

"  Because  we  are  too  thoroughly  drilled  in  the 
habit  of  obedience.  That  habit  is  grooved  deep  into 
our  brains.  Were  any  of  us  so  rash  as  to  start  a 
revolution,  the  government  could  stop  it  with  a 
single  word." 

"A  single  word?" 

"Yes—'verboten'l"    retorted    Bloem,    with    > 


THE  THIRTY-FIRST  OF  JULY       13 

short  laugh.  Then  he  pushed  back  his  chair  and 
rose  abruptly.  "  I  must  say  good-by.  My  orders 
are  awaiting  me  at  Elberfeld." 

Stewart  rose  too,  his  face  still  mazed  with  in-, 
credulity. 

"  You  really  mean " 

"  I  mean,"  Bloem  broke  in,  "  that  to-morrow  I 
go  to  my  depot,  hang  about  my  neck  the  metal  tag 
stamped  with  my  number,  put  on  my  uniform  and 
shoulder  my  rifle.  I  cease  to  be  an  individual — I  be 
come  a  soldier.  Good-by,  my  friend,"  he  added,  his 
voice  softening.  "  Think  of  me  sometimes,  in  that 
far-off,  sublime  America  of  yours.  One  thing  more 
— do  not  linger  in  Germany — things  will  be  very 
different  here  under  martial  law.  Get  home  as 
quickly  as  you  can;  and,  in  the  midst  of  your  peace 
and  happiness,  pity  us  poor  blind  worms  who  are 
forced  to  slay  each  other !  " 

"  But  I  will  go  with  you  to  the  station,"  Stewart 
protested. 

"No,  no,"  said  Bloem;  "you  must  not  do  that. 
I  am  to  meet  my  cousin.  Good-by.  Lebe  wohl!" 

"  Good-by — and  good  luck !  "  and  Stewart  wrung 
tfic  hand  thrust  into  his.  "  You  have  been  most 
kind  to  me." 

Bloem  answered  only  with  a  little  shake  of  the 


I4        THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

head;  then  turned  resolutely  and  hastened  from 
the  terrace. 

Stewart  sank  back  into  his  seat  more  moved  than 
he  would  have  believed  possible  by  this  parting  from 
a  man  whom,  a  fortnight  before,  he  had  not  known 
at  all.  Poor  Bloem !  To  what  fate  was  he  being 
hurried !  A  cultured  man  graded  down  to  the  level 
of  the  hind;  a  gentleman  set  to  the  task  of  slaughter ; 
a  democrat  driven  to  fight  in  defense  of  the  divine 
right  of  kings!  But  could  such  a  fight  succeed? 
Was  any  power  strong  enough  to  drag  back  the 
hands  of  time 

And  then  Stewart  started  violently,  for  someone 
had  touched  him  on  the  shoulder.  He  looked  up  to 
find  standing  over  him  a  tall  man  in  dark  blue  uni 
form  and  wearing  a  spiked  helmet. 

'  Your  pardon,  sir,'*  said  the  man  in  careful  Eng 
lish  ;  "  I  am  an  agent  of  the  police.  I  must  ask 
you  certain  questions." 

"  Very  well,"  agreed  Stewart  with  a  smile.  "  Go 
ahead — I  have  nothing  to  conceal.  But  won't  you 
sit  down  ?  " 

"  I  thank  you,"  and  the  policeman  sat  down  heav 
ily.  "  You  are,  I  believe,  an  American." 

"  Yes." 

"  Have  you  a  passport  ?  " 


THE  THIRTY-FIRST  OF  JULY       15 

"  Yes — I  was  foolish  enough  to  get  one  before  I 
left  home.  All  my  friends  laughed  at  me  and  told 
me  I  was  wasting  a  dollar!  " 

"  I  should  like  to  see  it." 

Stewart  put  his  hand  into  an  inner  pocket,  drew 
out  the  crackling  parchment  and  passed  it  over. 
The  other  took  it,  unfolded  it,  glanced  at  the  red 
seal  and  at  the  date,  then  read  the  very  vague  de 
scription  of  its  owner,  and  finally  drew  out  a  note 
book. 

"  Pease  sign  your  name  here,"  he  said,  and  indi 
cated  a  blank  page. 

Stewart  wrote  his  name,  and  the  officer  compared 
it  with  the  signature  at  the  bottom  of  the  passport. 
Then  he  nodded,  folded  it  up,  and  handed  it  back 
across  the  table. 

"  It  is  quite  regular,"  he  said.  "  For  what  time 
have  you  been  in  Germany  ?  " 

"  About  two  weeks.  I  attended  the  surgical  con 
gress  at  Vienna." 

"  You  are  a  surgeon  by  profession?  " 

"  Yes."  « 

"  You  are  now  on  your  way  home  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  When  will  you  leave  Germany?" 

"  I  am  going  from  here  to  Aix-la-Chapelle  in  the 


1 6          THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

morning,  and  expect  to  leave  there  for  Brussels  to 
morrow  afternoon  or  Sunday  morning  at  the  latest." 

The  officer  noted  these  details  in  his  book. 

"At  what  hotel  will  you  stay  in  Aachen?"  he 
asked. 

"  I  don't  know.  Is  there  a  good  one  near  the 
station  ?  " 

"  The  Kolner  Hof  is  near  the  station.  It  is  not 
large,  but  it  is  very  good.  It  is  starred  by 
Baedeker." 

"  Then  I  will  go  there,"  said  Stewart. 

"  Very  good,"  and  the  officer  wrote,  "  Kolner 
Hof,  Aachen,"  after  Stewart's  name,  closed  his  note 
book  and  slipped  it  into  his  pocket.  "  You  under 
stand,  sir,  that  it  is  our  duty  to  keep  watch  over  all 
strangers,  as  much  for  their  own  protection  as  for 
any  other  reason." 

"  Yes,"  assented  Stewart,  "  I  understand.  I  have 
heard  that  there  is  some  danger  of  war." 

"  Of  that  I  know  nothing,"  said  the  other  coldly, 
and  rose  quickly  to  his  feet.  "  I  bid  you  good-night, 
sir." 

"  Good-night,*'  responded  Stewart,  and  watched 
the  upright  figure  until  it  disappeared. 

Then,  lighting  a  fresh  cigar,  he  gazed  out  at  the 
great  cathedral,  nebulous  and  dream-like  in  the 


THE  THIRTY-FIRST  OF  JULY       17 

darkness,  and  tried  to  picture  to  himself  what  such 
a  war  would  mean  as  Bloem  had  spoken  of.  With 
men  by  the  million  dragged  into  the  vast  armies, 
who  would  harvest  Europe's  grain,  who  would  work 
in  her  factories,  who  would  conduct  her  business? 
Above  all,  who  would  feed  the  women  and  children? 

And  where  would  the  money  come  from — the 
millions  needed  daily  to  keep  such  armies  in  the 
field?  Where  could  it  come  from,  save  from  the 
sweat  of  inoffensive  people,  who  must  be  starved 
and  robbed  and  ground  into  the  earth  until  the  last 
penny  was  wrung  from  them?  Along  the  line  of 
battle,  thousands  would  meet  swift  death,  and  thou 
sands  more  would  struggle  back  to  life  through  the 
torments  of  hell,  to  find  themselves  maimed  and 
useless.  But  how  trivial  their  sufferings  beside 
the  slow,  hopeless,  year-long  martyrdom  of  the 
countless  thousands  who  would  never  see  a  battle, 
who  would  know  little  of  the  war — who  would 
know  only  that  never  thereafter  was  there  food 
enough,  warmth  enough 

Stewart  started  from  his  reverie  to  find  the  waiter 
putting  out  the  lights.  Shivering  as  with  a  sudden 
chill,  he  hastily  sought  his  room. 


As  Stewart  ate  his  breakfast  next  morning,  he 
smiled  at  his  absurd  fears  of  the  night  before.  In 
the  clear  light  of  day,  Bloem's  talk  of  war  seemed 
mere  foolishness.  War !  Nonsense !  Europe  would 
never  be  guilty  of  such  folly — a  deliberate  plunge 
to  ruin. 

Besides,  there  were  no  evidences  of  war;  the  life 
of  the  city  was  moving  in  its  accustomed  round,  so 
far  as  Stewart  could  see;  and  there  was  vast  reas 
surance  in  the  quiet  and  orderly  service  of  the 
breakfast-room.  No  doubt  the  Powers  had  be 
thought  themselves,  had  interfered,  had  stopped  the 
war  between  Austria  and  Servia,  had  ceased  mo 
bilization — in  a  word,  had  saved  Europe  from  an 
explosion  which  would  have  shaken  her  from  end 
to  end. 

But  when  Stewart  asked  for  his  bill,  the  pro 
prietor,  instead  of  intrusting  it  as  usual  to  the  head- 
waiter,  presented  it  in  person. 


THE  FIRST  RUMBLINGS  19 

"If  Herr  Stewart  would  pay  in  gold,  it  would  be 
a  great  favor,"  he  said. 

Like  all  Americans,  Stewart,  unaccustomed  to 
gold  and  finding  its  weight  burdensome,  carried 
banknotes  whenever  it  was  possible  to  do  so. 
Emptying  his  pockets  now,  he  found,  besides  a  mis 
cellaneous  lot  of  silver  and  nickel  and  copper,  a 
single  small  gold  coin,  value  ten  marks. 

"  But  I  have  plenty  of  paper,"  he  said,  and,  pro 
ducing  his  pocketbook,  spread  five  notes  for  a  hun 
dred  marks  each  before  him  on  the  table.  "  What's 
the  matter  with  it?" 

"  There  is  nothing  at  all  the  matter  with  it,  sir," 
the  little  fat  German  hastened  to  assure  him ;  "  only, 
just  at  present,  there  is  a  preference  for  gold.  I 
would  advise  that  you  get  gold  for  these  notes,  if 
possible." 

"  I  have  a  Cook's  letter  of  credit,"  said  Stewart 
"  They  would  give  me  gold.  Where  is  Cook's  office 
here?" 

"  It  is  but  a  step  up  the  street,  sir,"  answered  the 
other  eagerly.  "  Come,  I  will  show  you,"  and, 
hastening  to  the  door,  he  pointed  out  the  office  at 
the  end  of  a  row  of  buildings  jutting  out  toward 
the  cathedral. 

Stewart,   the  banknotes   in  his  hand,   hastened 


20 

thither,  and  found  quite  a  crowd  of  people  draw 
ing  money  on  traveler's  checks  and  letters  of  credit. 
He  noticed  that  they  were  all  being  paid  in  gold. 
They,  too,  it  seemed,  had  heard  rumors  of  war,  had 
been  advised  to  get  gold;  but  most  of  them  treated 
the  rumors  as  a  joke  and  were  heeding  the 
advice  only  because  they  needed  gold  to  pay  their 
bills. 

Even  if  there  was  war,  they  told  each  other,  it 
could  not  affect  them.  At  most,  it  would  only  add 
a  spice  of  excitement  and  adventure  to  the  remainder 
of  their  European  tour;  what  they  most  feared  was 
that  they  would  not  be  permitted  to  see  any  of  the 
fighting!  A  few  of  the  more  timid  shamefacedly 
confessed  that  they  were  getting  ready  to  turn  home 
ward,  but  by  far  the  greater  number  proclaimed  the 
fact  that  they  had  made  up  their  minds  not  to  alter 
their  plans  in  any  detail.  So  much  Stewart  gath 
ered  as  he  stood  in  line  waiting  his  turn;  then  he 
was  in  front  of  the  cashier's  window. 

The  cashier  looked  rather  dubious  when  Stewart 
laid  the  banknotes  down  and  asked  for  gold. 

"  I  am  carrying  one  of  your  letters  of  credit," 
Stewart  explained,  and  produced  it.  "  I  got  these 
notes  on  it  at  Heidelberg  just  the  other  day.  Now 
it  seems  they're  no  good." 


THE  FIRST  RUMBLINGS  21 

"  They  are  perfectly  good,"  the  cashier  assured 
him;  "  but  some  of  the  tradespeople,  who  are  al 
ways  suspicious  and  ready  to  take  alarm,  are  de 
manding  gold.  How  long  will  you  be  in  Ger 
many  ?  " 

"  I  go  to  Belgium  to-night  or  to-morrow." 

"  Then  you  can  use  French  gold,"  said  the  cashier, 
with  visible  relief.  "  Will  one  hundred  marks  in 
German  gold  carry  you  through?  Yes?  I  think  I 
can  arrange  it  on  that  basis ;"  and  when  Stewart  as 
sented,  counted  out  five  twenty-mark  pieces  and 
twenty-four  twenty-franc  pieces.  "  I  think  you  are 
wise  to  leave  Germany  as  soon  as  possible,"  he 
added,  in  a  low  tone,  as  Stewart  gathered  up  this 
money  and  bestowed  it  about  his  person.  "  We  do 
not  wish  to  alarm  anyone,  and  we  are  not  offering 
advice,  but  if  war  comes,  Germany  will  not  be  a 
pleasant  place  for  strangers." 

"  Is  it  really  coming?  "  Stewart  asked.  "  Is  there 
any  news  ?  " 

"  There  is  nothing  definite — just  a  feeling  in  the 
air — but  I  believe  that  it  is  coming,"  and  he  turned 
to  the  next  in  line. 

Stewart  hastened  back  to  the  hotel,  where  his  land 
lord  received  with  reiterated  thanks  the  thirty  marks 
needed  to  settle  the  bill.  When  that  transaction 


22          THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

was  ended,  he  glanced  nervously  about  the  empty 
office,  and  then  leaned  close. 

"  You  leave  this  morning,  do  you  not,  sir  ?  "  he 
asked,  in  a  tone  cautiously  lowered. 

"  Yes;  I  am  going  to  Aix-la-Chapelle." 

"  Take  my  advice,  sir,"  said  the  landlord  ear 
nestly,  "  and  do  not  stop  there.  Go  straight  on  to 
Brussels." 

"  But  why?  "  asked  Stewart.  "  Everybody  is  ad 
vising  me  to  get  out  of  Germany.  What  danger  can 
there  be?" 

"  No  danger,  perhaps,  but  very  great  annoyance. 
It  is  rumored  that  the  Emperor  has  already  signed 
the  proclamation  declaring  Germany  in  a  state  of 
war.  It  may  be  posted  at  any  moment." 

"  Suppose  it  is — what  then  ?  What  difference  can 
that  make  to  me — or  to  any  American  ?  " 

"  I  see  you  do  not  know  what  those  words  mean," 
said  the  little  landlord,  leaning  still  closer  and  speak 
ing  with  twitching  lips.  "  When  Germany  is  in  a 
state  of  war,  all  civil  authority  ceases ;  the  military 
authority  is  everywhere  supreme.  The  state  takes 
charge  of  all  railroads,  and  no  private  persons  will 
be  permitted  on  them  until  the  troops  have  been 
mobilized,  which  will  take  at  least  a  week;  even 
after  that,  the  trains  will  run  only  when  the  military 


THE  FIRST  RUMBLINGS  23 

authorities  think  proper,  and  never  past  the  frontier 
The  telegraphs  are  taken  and  will  send  no  private 
messages ;  no  person  may  enter  or  leave  the  country 
until  his  identity  is  clearly  established;  every  stran 
ger  in  the  country  will  be  placed  under  arrest,  if 
there  is  any  reason  to  suspect  him.  All  motor 
vehicles  are  seized,  all  horses,  all  stores  of  food. 
Business  stops,  because  almost  all  the  men  must  go 
to  the  army.  I  must  close  my  hotel  because  there 
will  be  no  men  left  to  work  for  me.  Even  if  the  men 
were  left,  there  would  be  no  custom  when  travel 
ceases.  Every  shop  will  be  closed  which  cannot  be 
managed  by  women ;  every  factory  will  shut,  unless 
its  product  is  needed  by  the  army.  Your  letter  of 
credit  will  be  worthless,  because  there  will  be  no 
way  in  which  our  bankers  can  get  gold  from  Amer 
ica.  No — at  that  time,  Germany  will  be  no  place  for 
strangers." 

Stewart  listened  incredulously,  for  all  this  sounded 
like  the  wildest  extravagance.  He  could  not  believe 
that  business  and  industry  would  fall  to  pieces  like 
that — it  was  too  firmly  founded,  too  strongly  built. 

"  What  I  have  said  is  true,  sir,  believe  me,"  said 
the  little  man,  earnestly,  seeing  his  skeptical  counte 
nance.  "  One  thing  more — have  you  a  passport  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Stewart,  and  tapped  his  pocket. 


24 

"  That  is  good.  That  will  save  you  trouble  at  the 
frontier.  Ah,  here  is  your  baggage.  Good-by,  sir, 
and  a  safe  voyage  to  your  most  fortunate  country." 

A  brawny  porter  shouldered  the  two  suit-cases 
which  held  Stewart's  belongings,  and  the  latter  fol 
lowed  him  along  the  hall  to  the  door.  As  he  stepped 
out  upon  the  terrace,  he  saw  drawn  up  there  about 
twenty  men — some  with  the  black  coats  of  waiters, 
some  with  the  white  caps  of  cooks,  some  with  the 
green  aprons  of  porters — while  a  bearded  man  in  a 
spiked  helmet  was  checking  off  their  names  in  a 
little  book.  At  the  sound  of  Stewart's  footsteps,  he 
turned  and  cast  upon  him  the  cold,  impersonal 
glance  of  German  officialdom.  Then  he  looked  at 
the  porter. 

"  You  will  return  as  quickly  as  possible,"  he  said 
gruffly  in  German  to  the  latter,  and  returned  to  his 
checking. 

As  they  crossed  the  Domhof  and  skirted  the  rear 
of  the  cathedral,  Stewart  noticed  that  many  of  the 
shops  were  locked  and  shuttered,  and  that  the  street 
seemed  strangely  deserted.  Only  as  they  neared  the 
station  did  the  crowd  increase.  It  was  evident  that 
many  tourists,  warned,  perhaps,  as  Stewart  had 
been,  had  made  up  their  minds  to  get  out  of  Ger 
many;  but  the  train  drawn  up  beside  the  platform 


THE  FIRST  RUMBLINGS  ac 

was  a  long  one,  and  there  was  room  for  everybody. 
It  was  a  good-humored  crowd,  rather  inclined  to 
laugh  at  its  own  fears  and  to  protest  that  this  jour 
ney  was  entirely  in  accordance  with  a  pre-arranged 
schedule ;  but  it  grew  quieter  and  quieter  as  moment 
/after  moment  passed  and  the  train  did  not  start. 

That  a  German  train  should  not  start  precisely 
on  time  was  certainly  unusual;  that  it  should  wait 
for  twenty  minutes  beyond  that  time  was  stagger 
ing.  But  the  station-master,  pacing  solemnly  up 
and  down  the  platform,  paid  no  heed  to  the  inquiries 
addressed  to  him,  and  the  guards  answered  only  by 
a,  shake  of  the  head  which  might  mean  anything. 
Then,  quite  suddenly,  above  the  noises  of  the  sta 
tion,  menacing  and  insistent  came  the  low,  ceaseless 
shuffle  of  approaching  feet. 

A  moment  later  the  head  of  an  infantry  colurmi 
appeared  at  the  station  entrance.  It  halted  there, 
and  an  officer,  in  a  long,  gray  cape  that  fell  to  his 
ankles,  strode  toward  the  station-master,  who  hast 
ened  to  meet  him.  There  was  a  moment's  confer 
ence,  and  then  the  station-master,  saluting  for  the 
tenth  time,  turned  to  the  expectant  guards. 

"  Clear  the  train !  "  he  shouted  in  stentorian  Ger 
man,  and  the  guards  sprang  eagerly  to  obey. 

The  scene  which  followed  is  quite  indescribable. 


26          THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

All  the  Germans  in  the  train  hastened  to  get  off,  as 
did  everybody  else  who  understood  what  was  de 
manded  and  knew  anything  of  the  methods  of 
militarism.  But  many  did  not  understand;  a  few 
who  did  made  the  mistake  of  standing  upon  what 
they  conceived  to  be  their  rights  and  refusing  to  be 
separated  from  their  luggage — and  all  alike,  men, 
women,  and  children,  were  yanked  from  their  seats 
and  deposited  upon  the  platform.  Some  were  de 
posited  upon  their  feet — but  not  many.  Women 
screamed  as  rough  and  seemingly  hostile  hands  were 
laid  upon  them;  men,  red  and  inarticulate  with 
anger,  attempted  ineffectually  to  resist.  In  a  mo 
ment  one  and  all  found  themselves  shut  off  by  a 
line  of  police  which  had  suddenly  appeared  from 
nowhere  and  drawn  up  before  the  train. 

Then  a  whistle  sounded  and  the  soldiers  began 
to  file  into  the  carriages  in  the  most  systematic 
manner.  Twenty-four  men  entered  each  compart 
ment — ten  sitting  down  and  fourteen  standing  up  or 
sitting  upon  the  others'  laps.  Each  coach,  therefore, 
held  one  hundred  and  forty-four;  and  the  battalion 
of  seven  hundred  and  twenty  men  exactly  filled  five 
coaches — just  as  the  General  Staff  had  long  ago  fig 
ured  that  it  should. 

Stewart,  after  watching  this  marvel  of  organ- 


THE  FIRST  RUMBLINGS  27 

ization  for  a  moment,  realized  that,  if  any  carriages 
were  empty,  it  would  be  the  ones  at  the  end  of  the 
train,  and  quietly  made  his  way  thither.  At  last,  in 
the  rear  coach,  he  came  to  a  compartment  in  which 
sat  one  man,  evidently  a  German,  with  a  melancholy, 
bearded  face.  Before  the  door  stood  a  guard  watch 
ing  the  battalion  entrain. 

"  May  one  get  aboard  ?  "  Stewart  inquired,  in  his 
best  German.. 

The  guard  held  up  his  hand  for  an  instant;  then 
the  gold-braided  station-master  shouted  a  sentence 
which  Stewart  could  not  distinguish;  but  the  guard 
dropped  his  hand  and  nodded. 

Looking  back,  the  American  saw  a  wild  mob 
charging  down  the  platform  toward  him,  and  hastily 
swung  himself  aboard.  As  he  dropped  into  his  seat, 
he  could  hear  the  shrieks  and  oaths  of  the  melee  out 
side,  and  the  next  moment,  a  party  of  breathless  and 
disheveled  Avomen  were  storming  the  door.  They 
were  panting,  exhausted,  inarticulate  with  rage  and 
chagrin ;  they  fell  in,  rolled  in,  stumbled  in,  until  the 
compartment  was  jammed. 

Stewart,  swept  from  his  seat  at  the  first  impact, 
but  rallying  and  doing  what  he  could  to  bring  order 
out  of  chaos,  could  not  but  admire  the  manner  in 
which  his  bearded  fellow-passenger  clung  immov- 


28  THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

ably  to  his  seat  until  the  last  woman  was  aboard, 
and  then  reached  quickly  out,  slammed  shut  the 
door,  and  held  it  shut,  despite  the  entreaties  of  the 
lost  souls  who  drifted  despairingly  past  along  the 
platform,  seemingly  blind,  deaf,  and  totally  unin 
terested  in  what  was  passing  around  him. 

Then  Stewart  looked  at  the  women.  Nine  were 
crowded  into  the  seats ;  eight  were  standing ;  all  were 
red  and  perspiring;  and  most  of  them  had  plainly 
lost  their  tempers.  Stewart  was  perspiring  himself, 
and  he  got  out  his  handkerchief  and  mopped  his 
forehead;  then  he  ventured  to  speak. 

"  Well,"  he  said ;  "  so  this  is  war !  I  have  always 
heard  it  was  warm  work !  " 

Most  of  the  women  merely  glared  at  him  and 
went  on  adjusting  their  clothing,  and  fastening  up 
their  hair,  and  straightening  their  hats;  but  one,  a 
buxom  woman  of  forty-eight  or  fifty,  who  was 
crowded  next  to  him,  and  who  had  evidently  suffered 
more  than  her  share  of  the  general  misfortune, 
turned  sharply. 

"  Are  you  an  American  ?  "  she  demanded. 

"  I  am,  madam." 

"  And  you  stand  by  and  see  your  countrywomen 
treated  in  this  perfectly  outrageous  fashion  ?  " 

"  My  dear  madam,"  protested  Stewart,  "  what 


THE  FIRST  RUMBLINGS  29 

could  one  man — even  an  American — do  against  a 
thousand?  " 

"  You  could  at  least " 

"  Nonsense,  mother,"  broke  in  another  voice,  and 

i 

Stewart  turned  to  see  that  it  was  a  slim,  pale  girl 
of  perhaps  twenty-two  who  spoke.  "  The  gentle 
man  is  quite  right.  Besides,  I  thought  it  rather  good 
fun." 

"  Good  fun !  "  snapped  her  mother.  "  Good  fun 
to  be  jerked  about  and  trampled  on  and  insulted! 
And  where  is  our  baggage?  Will  we  ever  see  it 
again?" 

"  Oh,  the  baggage  is  safe  enough,"  Stewart  as 
sured  her.  "  The  troops  will  detrain  somewhere 
this  side  the  frontier,  and  we  can  all  take  our  old 
seats." 

"  But  why  should  they  travel  by  this  train  ?  Why 
should  they  not  take  another  train?  Why  should 
they " 

"  Are  we  all  here  ?  "  broke  in  an  anxious  voice. 
"  Is  anyone  missing?  " 

There  was  a  moment's  counting,  then  a  gen-; 
eral  sigh  of  relief.  The  number  was  found  cor 
rect. 

From  somewhere  up  the  line  a  whistle  sounded, 
and  the  state  of  the  engine-driver's  nerves  could  be 


30         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

inferred  from  the  jerk  with  which  he  started — quite 
an  American  jerk.  All  the  women  who  were  stand 
ing,  screamed  and  clutched  at  each  other  and  swayed 
back  and  forth  as  if  wrestling.  Stewart  found  him 
self  wrestling  with  the  buxom  woman. 

"  I  cannot  stand !  "  she  declared.  "  It  is  out 
rageous  that  I  should  have  to  stand !  "  and  she  fixed 
glittering  eyes  upon  the  bearded  stranger.  "  No 
American  would  remain  seated  while  a  woman  of 
my  age  was  standing !  " 

But  the  bearded  stranger  gazed  blandly  out  of  the 
window  at  the  passing  landscape. 

There  was  a  moment's  silence,  during  which 
everyone  looked  at  the  heartless  culprit.  Stewart 
had  an  uneasy  feeling  that,  if  he  were  to  do  his  duty 
as  an  American,  he  would  grab  the  offender  by  the 
collar  and  hurl  him  through  the  window.  Then 
the  woman  next  to  the  stranger  bumped  resolutely 
into  him,  pressed  him  into  the  corner,  and  disclosed 
a  few  inches  of  the  seat. 

"  Sit  here,  Mrs.  Field,"  she  said.  "  We  can  all 
squeeze  up  a  little." 

The  pressure  was  tremendous  when  Mrs.  Field 
sat  down;  but  the  carriage  was  strongly  built  and 
the  sides  held.  The  slender  girl  came  and  stood  by 
Stewart. 


THE  FIRST  RUMBLINGS  31 

"  What's  it  all  about?  "  she  asked.  "  Has  there 
been  a  riot  or  something?  " 

"  There  is  going  to  be  a  most  awful  riot,"  an 
swered  Stewart,  "  unless  all  signs  fail.  Germany  is 
mobilizing  her  troops  to  attack  France." 

"  To  attack  France !  How  outrageous !  It's  that 
Kaiser  Wilhelm,  I  suppose!  Well,  I  hope  France 
will  simply  clean  him  up !  " 

"  So  do  I !  "  cried  her  mother.  "  The  Germans 
are  not  gentlemen.  They  do  not  know  how  to  treat 
women !  " 

"  '  Kochen,  Kirche  und  Kinder! '  "  quoted  some 
body,  in  a  high  voice. 

"  But  see  here,"  protested  Stewart,  with  a  glance 
at  the  bearded  stranger,  who  was  still  staring  steadily 
out  of  the  window,  "  if  I  were  you,  I'd  wait  till  I 
was  out  of  Germany  before  saying  so.  It  would  be 
safer!" 

"  Safer !  "  echoed  an  elderly  woman  with  a  high 
nose.  "  I  should  like  to  see  them  harm  an  Ameri 
can!" 

Stewart  turned  away  to  the  window  with  a  ges 
ture  of  despair,  and  caught  the  laughing  eyes  of  the 
girl  who  stood  beside  him. 

"  Don't  blame  them  too  much,"  she  said. 
"  They're  not  themselves.  Usually  they  are  all  quite 


32          THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

polite  and  well-behaved;  but  now  they  are  perfectly 
savage.  And  I  don't  blame  them.  I  didn't  mind  so 
much,  because  I'm  slim  and  long-legged  and  not 
very  dignified;  but  if  I  were  a  stout,  elderly  woman, 
rather  proud  of  my  appearance,  I  would  bitterly 
resent  being  yanked  out  of  a  seat  and  violently  pro 
pelled  across  a  platform  by  a  bearded  ruffian  with 
dirty  hands.  Wouldn't  you  ?  " 

'  Yes,"  agreed  Stewart,  laughing;  "I  should 
probably  kick  and  bite  and  behave  in  a  most  un 
dignified  manner." 

The  girl  leaned  closer. 

"Some  of  them  did!"  she  murmured. 

Stewart  laughed  again  and  looked  at  her  with 
fresh  interest.  It  was  something  to  find  a  woman 
who  could  preserve  her  sense  of  humor  under  such 
circumstances. 

"  You  have  been  doing  the  continent?  "  he  asked. 

"  Yes,  seventeen  of  us;  all  from  Philadelphia." 

"  And  you've  had  a  good  time,  of  course?  " 

"  We'd  have  had  a  better  if  we  had  brought  a  man 
jalong.  I  never  realized  before  how  valuable  men 
are.  Women  aren't  fitted  by  nature  to  wrestle  with 
time-tables  and  cabbies  and  hotel-bills  and  head- 
waiters.  This  trip  has  taught  me  to  respect  men 
more  than  I  have  ever  done." 


THE  FIRST  RUMBLINGS  33 

*  Then  it  hasn't  been  wasted.  But  you  say  you're 
from  Philadelphia.  I  know  some  people  in  Phila 
delphia — the  Courtlandt  Bryces  are  sort  of  cousins 
of  mine." 

But  the  girl  shook  her  head. 

"  That  sort  of  thing  happens  only  in  novels,"  she 
said.  "  But  there  is  no  reason  I  shouldn't  tell  you 
my  name,  if  you  want  to  know  it.  It  is  Millicent 
Field,  and  its  possessor  is  very  undistinguished — 
just  a  school-teacher — not  at  all  in  the  same  social 
circle  as  the  Courtlandt  Bryces." 

Stewart  colored  a  little. 

"  My  name  is  Bradford  Stewart,"  he  said,  "  and 
I  also  am  very  undistinguished — just  a  surgeon  on 
the  staff  at  Johns  Hopkins.  Did  you  get  to 
Vienna?" 

"  No ;  that  was  too  far  for  us." 

"  There  was  a  clinic  there ;  I  saw  some  wonder 
ful  things.  These  German  surgeons  certainly  know 
their  business." 

Miss  Field  made  a  little  grimace. 

"  Perhaps,"  she  admitted.  "  But  do  you  know  the 
impression  of  Germany  that  I  am  taking  home  with 
me?  It  is  that  Germany  is  a  country  run  solely  in 
the  interests  of  the  male  half  of  creation.  Women 


34          THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

are  tolerated  only  because  they  are  necessary  in  the 
scheme  of  things." 

Stewart  laughed. 

"  There  was  a  book  published  a  year  or  two  ago," 
he  said,  "  called  '  Germany  and  the  Germans.'  Per 
haps  you  read  it?  " 

"  No." 

"  I  remember  it  for  one  remark.  Its  author  says 
that  Germany  is  the  only  country  on  earth  where  the 
men's  hands  are  better  kept  than  the  women's." 

Miss  Field  clapped  her  hands  in  delight. 

"  Delicious !  "  she  cried.  "  Splendid !  And  it  is 
true,"  she  added,  more  seriously.  "  Did  you  see 
the  women  cleaning  the  streets  in  Munich  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  And  harvesting  the  grain,  and  spreading  ma 
nure,  and  carrying  great  burdens — doing  all  the 
dirty  work  and  the  heavy  work.  What  are  the  men 
doing,  I  should  like  to  know?" 

"  Madam,"  spoke  up  the  bearded  stranger  by 
the  window,  in  a  deep  voice  which  made  everybody 
jump,  "  I  will  tell  you  what  the  men  are  doing — 
they  are  in  the  army,  preparing  themselves  for  the 
defense  of  their  fatherland.  Do  you  think  it  is  of 
choice  they  leave  the  harvesting  and  street-cleaning 
and  carrying  of  burdens  to  their  mothers  and  wives 


THE  FIRST  RUMBLINGS  35 

and  sisters  ?  No ;  it  is  because  for  them  is  reserved 
a  greater  task — the  task  of  confronting  the  revenge 
ful  hate  of  France,  the  envious  hate  of  England,  the 
cruel  hate  of  Russia.  That  is  their  task  to-day, 
madam,  and  they  accept  it  with  light  hearts,  con 
fident  of  victory ! " 

There  was  a  moment's  silence.  Mrs.  Field  was 
the  first  to  find  her  voice. 

"  All  the  same,"  she  said,  "  that  does  not  justify 
the  use  of  cows  as  draft  animals ! " 

The  German  stared  at  her  an  instant  in  astonish 
ment,  then  turned  away  to  the  window  with  a  ges 
ture  of  contempt,  as  of  one  who  refuses  to  argue 
with  lunatics,  and  paid  no  further  heed  to  the 
Americans. 

With  them,  the  conversation  turned  from  war, 
which  none  of  them  really  believed  would  come,  to 
home,  for  which  they  were  all  longing.  Home, 
Stewart  told  himself,  means  everything  to  middle- 
aged  women  of  fixed  habits.  It  was  astonishing 
that  they  should  tear  themselves  away  from  it,  even 
for  a  tour  of  Europe,  for  to  them  travel  meant 
martyrdom.  Home!  How  their  eyes  brightened 
as  they  spoke  the  word !  They  were  going  through 
to  Brussels,  then  to  Ostend,  after  a  look  at  Ghent 
and  Bruges,  and  so  to  England  and  their  boat. 


36          THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

"  I  intend  to  spend  the  afternoon  at  Aix-la- 
Chapelle,"  said  Stewart,  "  and  go  on  to  Brussels 
to-night  or  in  the  morning.  Perhaps  I  shall  see 
you  there." 

Miss  Field  mentioned  the  hotel  at  which  the 
party  would  stop. 

"What  is  there  at  Aix-la-Chapelle  ?  "  she  asked. 
"  I  suppose  I  ought  to  know,  but  I  don't." 

"  There's  a  cathedral,  with  the  tomb  of  Charle 
magne,  and  his  throne,  and  a  lot  of  other  relics.  I 
was  always  impressed  by  Charlemagne.  He  was  the 
real  thing  in  the  way  of  emperors." 

"  I  should  like  to  see  his  tomb,"  said  Miss  Field. 
"Why  can't  we  stop  at  Aix-la-Chapelle,  mother?  " 

But  Mrs.  Field  shook  her  head. 

"  We  will  get  out  of  Germany  as  quickly  as  we 
can,"  she  said,  and  the  other  members  of  the  party 
nodded  their  hearty  agreement. 

Meanwhile  the  train  rolled  steadily  on  through  a 
beautiful  and  peaceful  country,  where  war  seemed 
incredible  and  undreamed  of.  White  villas  dotted 
the  thickly- wooded  hillsides;  quaint  villages  hud 
dled  in  the  valleys.  And  finally  the  train  crossed  a 
long  viaduct  and  rumbled  into  the  station  at  Aix-la- 
Chapelle. 

The  platform  was  deserted,  save  for  a  few  guards 


THE  FIRST  RUMBLINGS  37 

and  porters.  Stewart  opened  the  door  and  was 
about  to  step  out,  when  a  guard  waved  him  vio 
lently  back.  Looking  forward,  he  saw  that  the 
soldiers  were  detraining. 

"  Good !  "  he  said.  "  You  can  get  your  old  seats 
again !  "  and,  catching  the  eye  of  the  guard,  gave 
him  a  nod  which  promised  a  liberal  tip. 

That  worthy  understood  it  perfectly,  and  the 
moment  the  last  soldier  was  on  the  platform,  he 
beckoned  to  Stewart  and  his  party,  assisted  them  to 
find  their  old  compartments,  ejected  a  peasant  who 
had  taken  refuge  in  one  of  them,  assured  the  ladies 
that  they  would  have  no  further  inconvenience,  and 
summoned  a  porter  to  take  charge  of  Stewart's  suit 
cases.  In  short,  he  did  everything  he  could  to  earn 
the  shining  three-mark  piece  which  Stewart  slipped 
into  his  hand. 

And  then,  after  receiving  the  thanks  of  the  ladies 
and  promising  to  look  them  up  in  Brussels,  Stewart 
followed  his  porter  across  the  platform  to  the  en 
trance. 
i 

Millicent  Field  looked  after  him  a  little  wistfully. 

"  Hew  easy  it  is  for  a  man  to  do  things !  "  she 
remarked  to  nobody  in  particular.  "  Never  speak  to 
me  again  of  woman  suffrage !  " 


CHAPTER  III 
"  STATE  OF  WAR  " 

STEWART,  following  his  porter,  was  engulfed  in  the  t 

«.-  • 

human  tide  which  had  been  beating  clamorously 
against  the  gates,  and  which  surged  forward  across 
the  platform  as  soon  as  they  were  opened.  There 
were  tourists  of  all  nations,  alarmed  by  the  threat 
of  war,  and  there  were  also  many  people  who,  to 
Stewart  at  least,  appeared  to  be  Germans ;  and  all  of 
them  were  running  toward  the  train,  looking  neither 
to  the  right  nor  left,  dragging  along  as  much  lug 
gage  as  they  could  carry. 

As  he  stepped  aside  for  a  moment  out  of  the  way 
of  this  torrent,  Stewart  found  himself  beside  the 
bearded  stranger  who  had  waxed  eloquent  in  defense 
of  Germany.  He  was  watching  the  crowd  with  a 
look  at  once  mocking  and  sardonic,  as  a  spider  might 
watch  a  fly  struggling  vainly  to  escape  from  the 
web.  He  glanced  at  Stewart,  then  turned  away 
without  any  sign  of  recognition. 

"  Where  do  you  go,  sir?  "  the  porter  asked,  when 
they  were  safely  through  the  gates. 

38 


It 


STATE  OF  WAR  "  39 

"  To  the  Kolner  Hof." 

"  It  is  but  a  step,"  said  the  porter,  and  he  un 
hooked  his  belt,  passed  it  through  the  handles  of  the 
suit-cases,  hooked  it  together  again  and  lifted  it  to 
his  shoulder.  u  This  way,  sir,  if  you  please." 

The  Kolner  Hof  proved  to  be  a  modest  inn  just 
around  the  corner,  where  Stewart  was  received  most 
cordially  by  the  plump,  high-colored  landlady. 
Lunch  would  be  ready  in  a  few  minutes;  mean 
while,  if  the  gentleman  would  follow  the  waiter, 
he  would  be  shown  to  a  room  where  he  could  remove 
the  traces  of  his  journey.  But  first  would  the  gen 
tleman  fill  in  the  blank  required  by  the  police  ? 

So  Stewart  filled  in  the  blank,  which  demanded  his 
name,  his  nationality,  his  age,  his  business,  his  home 
address,  the  place  from  which  he  had  come  to  Aix- 
la-Chapelle  and  the  place  to  which  he  would  go  on 
leaving  it,  handed  it  back  to  the  smiling  landlady, 
and  followed  an  ugly,  hang-dog  waiter  up  the  stair. 

The  room  into  which  he  was  shown  was  a  very 
pleasant  one,  scrupulously  clean,  and  as  he  made  his 
toilet,  Stewart  reflected  how  much  more  of  comfort 
and  how  much  warmer  welcome  was  often  to  be  had 
at  the  small  inns  than  at  the  big  ones,  and  mentally 
thanked  the  officer  of  police  who  had  recommended 
this  one.  He  found  he  had  further  reason  for  grati- 


40         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

tude  when  he  sat  down  to  lunch,  served  on  a  little 
table  set  in  one  corner  of  a  shady  court — the  best 
lunch  he  had  eaten  for  a  long  time,  as  he  told  the 
landlady  when  she  came  out  presently,  knitting  in  1 
hand,  and  sat  down  near  him.     She  could  speak  a' 
little  English,  it  appeared,  and  a  little  French,  and 
these,  with  Stewart's  little  German,  afforded  a  me 
dium  of  communication  limping,  it  is  true,  but  suffi 
cient. 

She  received  the  compliments  of  her  guest  with 
the  dignity  of  one  who  knew  them  to  be  deserved. 

"  I  do  what  I  can  to  please  my  patrons,"  she  said; 
"  and  indeed  I  have  had  no  cause  to  complain,  for 
the  season  has  been  very  good.  But  this  war — it 
will  ruin  us  innkeepers — there  will  be  no  more 
travelers.  Already,  I  hear,  Spa,  Ostend,  Carlsbad, 
Baden — such  places  as  those — are  deserted  just 
when  the  season  should  be  at  its  best.  What  do  you 
think  of  it — this  war?" 

"  Most  probably  it  is  just  another  scare,"  said 
Stewart.  "  War  seems  scarcely  possible  in  these 
days — it  is  too  cruel,  too  absurd.  An  agreement 
will  be  reached." 

"  I  am  sure  I  hope  so,  sir ;  but  it  looks  very  bad. 
For  three  days  now  our  troops  have  been  pass 
ing  through  Aachen  toward  the  frontier." 


"  STATE  OF  WAR  "  41 

"  How  far  away  is  the  frontier  ?  " 

"  About  ten  miles.  The  customhouse  is  it  Her- 
besthal." 

"  Ten  miles !  "  echoed  Stewart  in  surprise.  "  The 
frontier  of  France?  " 

"  Oh,  no — 'the  frontier  of  Belgium." 

"  But  why  should  they  concentrate  along  the  Bel 
gian  frontier?"  Stewart  demanded. 

"  Perhaps  they  fear  an  attack  from  that  direction. 
Or  perhaps,"  she  added,  calmly,  "  they  are  prepar 
ing  to  seize  Belgium.  I  have  often  heard  it  said 
that  Belgium  should  belong  to  Germany." 

"  But  look  here,"  protested  Stewart,  hotly,  "  Ger 
many  can't  seize  a  country  just  because  it  happens 
to  be  smaller  and  weaker  than  she  is !  " 

"  Can't  she  ?  "  inquired  the  landlady,  seemingly 
astonished  at  his  indignation.  "  Why  is  that?  " 

Her  eyes  were  shining  strangely  as  she  lowered 
them  to  her  knitting;  and  there  was  a  moment's 
silence,  broken  only  by  the  rapid  clicking  of  her 
needles.  For  Stewart  found  himself  unable  to  an 
swer  her  question.  Ever  since  history  began,  big 
countries  had  been  seizing  smaller  ones,  and  great 
powers  crushing  weaker  ones.  If  Austria  might 
seize  Bosnia  and  Italy  Tripoli,  why  might  not  Ger 
many  seize  Belgium?  And  he  suddenly  realized 


42          THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

that,  in  spite  of  protests  and  denials  and  hypocrisies, 
between  nation  and  nation  the  law  of  the  jungle  was, 
even  yet,  often  the  only  law ! 

"  At  any  rate,"  pursued  the  landlady,  at  last,  "  I 
have  heard  that  great  intrenchments  are  being  built 
all  along  there,  and  that  supplies  for  a  million  men 
have  been  assembled.  There  has  been  talk  of  war 
many  times  before,  and  nothing  has  come  of  it; 
but  there  have  never  been  such  preparations  as 
these." 

"  Let  us  hope  it  is  only  the  Kaiser  rattling  his 
sword  again — a  little  louder  than  usual.  I  confess," 
he  added  more  soberly,  "  that  as  an  American  I 
haven't  much  sympathy  with  Prussian  militarism. 
I  Have  sometimes  thought  that  a  war  which  would 
put  an  end  to  it  once  for  all  would  be  a  good  thing." 

The  woman  shot  him  a  glance  surprisingly  quick 
and  piercing. 

'  That  is  also  the  opinion  of  many  here  in  Ger- ' 
many,"  she  said  in  a  low  voice;  "  but  it  is  an  opinion 
which  cannot  be  uttered."  She  checked  herself 
quickly  as  the  ugly  waiter  approached.  "  How  long 
will  the  gentleman  remain  in  Aachen  ?  "  she  asked, 
in  another  tone. 

"  I  am  going  on  to  Brussels  this  evening.  There 
is  a  train  at  six  o'clock,  is  there  not  ?  " 


"  STATE  OF  WAR  "  43 

"  At  six  o'clock,  yes,  sir.  It  will  be  well  for  the 
gentleman  to  have  a  light  dinner  before  his  de 
parture.  The  train  may  be  delayed — and  the  jour 
ney  to  Brussels  is  of  seven  hours." 

"  Very  well,"  agreed  Stewart,  rising.  "  I  will  be 
back  about  five.  How  does  one  get  to  the  cathe 
dral?" 

"  Turn  to  your  right,  sir,  as  you  leave  the  hotel. 
The  first  street  is  the  Franzstrasse.  It  will  lead  you 
straight  to  the  church." 

Stewart  thanked  her  and  set  off.  The  Franz 
strasse  proved  to  be  a  wide  thoroughfare,  bordered 
by  handsome  shops,  but  many  of  them  were  closed 
and  the  street  itself  was  almost  deserted.  It  opened 
upon  a  narrower  street,  at  the  end  of  which  Stewart 
could  see  the  lofty  choir  of  the  minster. 

Presently  he  became  aware  of  a  chorus  of  high- 
pitched  voices,  which  grew  more  and  more  distinct 
as  he  advanced.  It  sounded  like  a  lot  of  women  in 
violent  altercation,  and  then  in  a  moment  he  saw 
what  it  was,  for  he  came  out  upon  an  open  square 
covered  with  market-stalls,  and  so  crowded  that  one 
could  scarcely  get  across  it.  Plainly  the  frugal 
wives  of  Aachen  were  laying  in  supplies  against  the 
time  when  all  food  would  grow  scarce  and  dear,  and 
from  the  din  of  high-pitched  bargaining  it  was 


44          THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

evident  that  the  crafty  market-people  had  already 
begun  to  advance  their  prices. 

Stewart  paused  for  a  while  to  contemplate  this 
scene,  far  more  violent  and  war-like  than  any  he 
( had  yet  witnessed ;  then,  edging  around  the  crowd, 
he  arrived  at  the  cathedral,  the  most  irregular  and 
eccentric  that  he  had  ever  seen — a  towering  Gothic 
choir  attached  to  an  octagonal  Byzantine  nave.  But 
that  nave  is  very  impressive,  as  Stewart  found  when 
he  stepped  inside  it;  and  then,  on  a  block  of  stone 
in  its  pavement,  he  saw  the  words,  "  Carlo  Magno," 
and  knew  that  he  was  at  the  tomb  of  the  great  Em 
peror. 

It  is  perhaps  not  really  the  tomb,  but  for  emo 
tional  purposes  it  answers  very  well,  and  there  can 
be  no  question  about  the  marble  throne  and  other 
relics  which  Stewart  presently  inspected,  under  the 
guidance  of  a  black-clad  verger.  Then,  as  there 
•was  a  service  Jn  progress  in  the  choir,  he  sat  down, 
at  the  verger's  suggestion,  to  wait  till  it  was 
over. 

In  a  small  chapel  at  his  right,  a  group  of  candles 
glowed  before  an  altar  dedicated  to  the  Virgin,  and 
here,  on  the  low  benches,  many  women  knelt  in 
prayer.  More  and  more  slipped  in  quietly — young 
women,  old  women,  some  shabby,  some  well-clad — 


"  STATE  OF  WAR  "  45 

until  the  benches  were  full;  and  after  that  the  new 
comers  knelt  on  the  stone  pavement  and  besought  the 
Mother  of  Christ  to  guard  their  sons  and  husbands 
and  sweethearts,  summoned  to  fight  the  battles  of 
the  Emperor.  Looking  at  them — at  their  bowed 
heads,  their  drawn  faces,  their  shrinking  figures — 
Stewart  realized  for  the  first  time  how  terrible  is 
the  burden  which  war  lays  on  women.  To  bear 
sons,  to  rear  them — only  to  see  them  march  away 
when  the  dreadful  summons  came;  to  bid  good-by 
to  husband  or  to  lover,  crushing  back  the  tears, 
masking  the  stricken  heart;  and  then  to  wait,  day 
after  dreary  day,  in  agony  at  every  rumor,  at  every 
knock,  at  every  passing  footstep,  with  no  refuge 

save  in  prayer 

But  such  thoughts  were  too  painful.  To  distract 
them,  he  got  out  his  Baedeker  and  turned  its  pages 
absently  until  he  came  to  Aachen.  First  the  railway 
stations — there  were  four,  it  seemed ;  then  the  hotels 
— the  Grand  Monarque,  the  Nuellens,  the  Hotel  de 
1'Empereur,  the  du  Nord — strange  that  so  many  of 
them  should  be  French,  in  name  at  least! — the 
Monopol,  the  Imperial  Crown — but  where  was  the 
Kolner  Hof  ?  He  ran  through  the  list  again  more 
carefully — no,  it  was  not  there.  And  yet  that  police- 
officer  at  Cologne  had  asserted  not  only  that  it  was 


46          THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

in  Baedeker,  but  that  it  was  honored  with  a  star! 
Perhaps  in  the  German  edition 

A  touch  on  the  arm  apprised  him  that  the  verger 
was  ready  to  take  him  through  the  choir,  where  the 
service  was  ended,  and  Stewart  slipped  his  book  back 
into  his  pocket  and  followed  him.  It  is  a  lovely 
choir,  soaring  toward  the  heavens  in  airy  beauty,  but 
Stewart  had  no  eyes  for  it.  He  found  suddenly  that 
he  wanted  to  get  away.  He  was  vaguely  uneasy. 
The  memory  of  those  kneeling  women  weighed  him 
down.  For  the  first  time  he  really  believed  that  war 
might  come. 

So  he  tipped  the  verger  and  left  the  church  and 
came  out  into  the  streets  again,  to  find  them  emp 
tier  than  ever.  Nearly  all  the  shops  were  closed; 
there  was  no  vehicle  of  any  kind ;  there  were  scarcely 
any  people.  And  then,  as  he  turned  the  corner  into 
the  wide  square  in  front  of  the  town-hall,  he  saw 
where  at  least  some  of  the  people  were,  for  a  great 
crowd  had  gathered  there — a  crowd  of  women  and 
children  and  old  men — while  from  the  steps  before 
the  entrance  an  official  in  gold-laced  uniform  and 
cocked  hat  was  delivering  a  harangue. 

At  first,  Stewart  could  catch  only  a  word  here  and 
there,  but  as  he  edged  closer,  he  found  that  the 
speech  was  a  eulogy  of  the  Kaiser — of  his  high  wis- 


"  STATE  OF  WAR  "  47 

dom,  his  supreme  greatness,  his  passionate  love  for 
his  people.  The  Kaiser  had  not  sought  war,  he  had 
strained  every  nerve  for  peace;  but  the  jealous  ene 
mies  who  ringed  Germany  round,  who  looked  with 
envy  upon  her  greatness  and  dreamed  only  of  de 
stroying  her,  would  not  give  her  peace.  So,  with  * 
firm  heart  and  abiding  trust  in  God,  the  Emperor 
had  donned  his  shining  armor  and  unsheathed  his 
sword,  confident  that  Germany  would  emerge  from 
the  struggle  greater  and  stronger  than  ever. 

Then  the  speaker  read  the  Emperor's  address,  and 
reminded  his  hearers  that  all  they  possessed,  even 
to  their  lives  and  the  lives  of  their  loved  ones,  be 
longed  to  their  Fatherland,  to  be  yielded  ungrudg 
ingly  when  need  arose.  He  cautioned  them  that  the 
military  power  was  now  supreme,  not  to  be  ques 
tioned.  It  would  brook  no  resistance  nor  interfer 
ence.  Disobedience  would  be  severely  dealt  with. 
It  was  for  each  of  them  to  go  quietly  about  his 
affairs,  trusting  in  the  Emperor's  wisdom,  and  to 
pray  for  victory. 

There  were  some  scattered  cheers,  but  the  crowd 
for  the  most  part  stood  in  dazed  silence  and  watched 
two  men  put  up  beside  the  entrance  to  the  rathhaus 
the  proclamation  which  declared  Germany  in  a  state 
of  war.  Down  the  furrowed  cheeks  of  many  of  the 


48          THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

older  people  the  hot  tears  poured  in  streams,  perhaps 
at  remembrance  of  the  horrors  and  suffering  of  Ger 
many's  last  var  with  France,  and  some  partial  real 
ization  that  far  greater  horrors  and  suffering  were 
to  come.  Then  by  twos  and  threes  they  drifted 
away  to  their  homes,  talking  in  bated  undertone,  or 
shuffling  silently  along,  staring  straight  before  them. 
In  every  face  were  fear  and  grief  and  a  sullen  ques 
tioning  of  fate. 

Why  had  this  horror  been  decreed  for  them? 
What  had  they  done  that  this  terrible  burden  should 
be  laid  upon  them  ?  What  could  war  bring  any  one 
of  them  but  sorrow  and  privation?  Was  there  no 
way  of  escape?  Had  they  no  voice  in  their  own 
destiny?  These  were  the  questions  which  surged 
through  Stewart's  mind  as  he  slowly  crossed  the 
square  and  made  his  way  along  the  silent  streets 
back  toward  his  hotel.  At  almost  every  corner  a 
red  poster  stared  at  him — a  poster  bearing  the  Prus 
sian  eagle  and  the  Kaiser's  name.  "  The  sword  has 
been  thrust  into  our  hands,"  the  Kaiser  wrote.  "  We 
must  defend  our  Fatherland  and  our  homes  against 
the  assaults  of  our  enemies.  Forward  with  God, 
who  will  be  with  us,  as  He  was  with  our  fathers !  'r 

Sad  as  he  had  never  been  before,  Stewart  walked 
on.  Something  was  desperately  wrong  somewhere; 


11  STATE  OF  WAR  "  49 

this  people  did  not  want  war — most  probably  even 
the  Kaiser  did  not  want  war.  Yet  war  had  come; 
the  fate  of  Europe  was  trembling  in  the  balance; 
millions  of  men  were  being  driven  to  a  detested 
task.  Caught  up  in  mighty  armies  by  a  force  there, 
was  no  resisting,  they  were  marching  blindly  to 
kill  and  be  killed 

A  sudden  outbreak  of  angry  voices  in  the  street 
ahead  startled  Stewart  from  his  thoughts.  A  section 
of  soldiers  was  halted  before  a  house  at  whose  door 
a  violent  controversy  was  in  progress  between  their 
sergeant  and  a  wrinkled  old  woman. 

"  I  tell  you  we  must  have  him,"  the  sergeant 
shouted,  as  though  for  the  twentieth  time. 

"  And  I  tell  you  his  wife  is  dying,"  shrieked  the 
woman.  "  He  has  permission  from  his  captain." 

"  I  know  nothing  about  that.  My  orders  are  to 
gather  in  all  stragglers." 

"  It  is  only  a  question  of  a  few  hours." 

"  He  must   come   now,"   repeated   the  sergeant, 
doggedly.     "  Those  are  the  orders.     If  he  disobeys 
them — if  I  am  compelled  to  use  force — he  will  be^ 
treated  as  a  deserter.    Will  you  tell  him,  or  must  I 
send  my  men  in  to  get  him  ?  " 

The  sunken  eyes  flamed  with  rage,  the  wrinkled 
face  was  contorted  with  hate — but  only  for  an  in- 


50         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

stant.  The  flame  died;  old  age,  despair,  the  habit 
of  obedience,  reasserted  themselves.  A  tear  trickled 
down  the  cheek — a  tear  of  helplessness  and  resigna 
tion. 

"  I  will  tell  him,  sir,"  she  said,  and  disappeared 
indoors. 

The  sergeant  turned  back  to  his  men,  cursing  hor 
ribly  to  himself.  Suddenly  he  spat  upon  the  pave 
ment  in  disgust. 

"  A  devil's  job !  "  he  muttered,  and  took  a  short 
turn  up  and  down,  without  looking  at  his  men.  In 
a  moment  the  old  woman  reappeared  in  the  door. 
"Well,  mother?"  he  demanded,  gruffly. 

"  I  have  told  him.    He  will  be  here  at  once." 

As  she  spoke,  a  fair-haired  youth  of  perhaps 
twenty  appeared  on  the  threshold  and  saluted.  His 
eyes  were  red  with  weeping,  but  he  held  himself 
proudly  erect. 

"  Hermann  Gronau?  "  asked  the  sergeant. 

"  Yes." 

"Fall  in!" 

With  a  shriek  of  anguish,  the  woman  threw  her 
arms  about  him  and  strained  him  close. 

"  My  boy !  "  she  moaned.  "  My  youngest  one — 
my  baby — they  are  taking  you  also !  " 

"  I  shall  be  back,  mother,  never  fear,"  he  said,  and 


"STATE  OF  WAR"  51 

loosened  her  arms  gently.  "  You  will  write  me 
when — when  it  is  over." 

"  Yes,"  she  promised,  and  he  took  his  place  in  the 
ranks. 

"  March !  "  cried  the  sergeant,  and  the  section 
tramped  away  with  Gronau  in  its  midst.  At  the 
corner,  he  turned  and  waved  his  hand  in  farewell  to 
the  old  woman.  For  a  moment  longer  she  stood 
clutching  at  the  door  and  staring  at  the  place  where 
he  had  vanished,  then  turned  slowly  back  into  the 
house. 


CHAPTER  IV 
THE  MYSTERY  OF  THE  SATIN  SLIPPERS 

STEWART,  awakening  from  the  contemplation  of  this 
poignant  drama — one  of  thousands  such  enacting 
at  that  moment  all  over  Europe — realized  that  he 
was  lingering  unduly  and  hastened  his  steps.  At  the 
end  of  five  minutes,  he  was  again  in  the  wide  Franz- 
strasse,  and,  turning  the  last  corner,  saw  his  land 
lady  standing  at  her  door,  looking  anxiously  up  and 
down  the  street. 

Her  face  brightened  with  relief  when  she  saw  him 
— a  relief  so  evidently  deep  and  genuine  that  Stewart 
was  a  little  puzzled  by  it. 

"  But  I  am  glad  to  see  you ! "  she  cried  as  he 
came  up,  her  face  wreathed  in  smiles.  "  I  was 
imagining  the  most  horrible  things.  I  feared  I 
know  not  what!  But  you  are  safe,  it  seems." 

"  Quite  safe.  In  fact,  I  was  nerer  in  any  dan 
ger." 

"  I  was  foolish,  no  doubt,  to  have  fear.  But  in 
times  like  these,  one  never  knows  what  may  happen." 

5» 


THE  SATIN  SLIPPERS  53 

"  True  enough,"  Stewart  agreed.  "  Still,  an 
American  with  a  passport  in  his  pocket  ought  to  be 
safe  anywhere." 

"  Ah ;  you  have  a  passport — that  is  good.  That 
i  will  simplify  matters.  The  police  have  been  here 
to  question  you.  They  will  return  presently." 

"The  police?" 

"  There  have  been  some  spies  captured,  it  seems. 
And  there  are  many  who  are  trying  to  leave  the 
country.  So  everyone  is  suspected.  You  are  not 
German-born,  I  hope?  If  you  were,  I  fear  not  even 
your  passport  would  be  of  use." 

They  had  walked  back  together  along  the  hall  as 
they  talked,  and  now  stopped  at  the  foot  of  the 
stair.  The  landlady  seemed  very  nervous — as  was 
perhaps  natural  amid  the  alarms  of  war.  She 
scarcely  listened  to  his  assurance  that  he  was  Ameri 
can  by  birth.  Little  beads  of  perspiration  stood  out 
across  her  forehead 

"  The  police  visited  your  room,"  she  rattled 
on.  "  You  will  perhaps  find  your  baggage  disar 
ranged." 

Stewart  smiled  wryly. 

"  So  it  seems  they  really  suspect  me  ?  " 

"  They  suspect  everyone,"  the  landlady  re' 
peated. 


54          THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

She  was  standing  with  her  back  toward  the  door, 
and  Stewart  wondered  why  she  should  watch  his 
face  so  closely. 

Suddenly,  over  her  shoulder,  he  saw  the  ugly 
waiter  with  the  hang-dog  air  approaching  along 
the  hall. 

"  Such  anxiety  is  quite  natural,"  said  the  land 
lady  rapidly  in  German,  raising  her  voice  a  little. 
"  I  can  understand  it.  But  it  is  not  remarkable  that 
you  should  have  missed  her — the  trains  are  so  ir 
regular.  I  will  send  her  to  you  the  moment  she 
arrives.  Ah,  Hans,"  she  added,  turning  at  the  sound 
of  the  waiter's  footsteps,  "  so  you  are  back  at  last ! 
You  will  take  up  some  hot  water  to  the  gentleman 
at  once.  And  now  you  will  excuse  me,  sir;  I  have 
the  dinner  to  attend  to,"  and  she  hurried  away, 
carrying  the  waiter  with  her. 

Stewart  stood  for  an  instant  staring  after  her; 
then  he  turned  and  mounted  slowly  to  his  room. 
But  what  had  the  woman  meant?  Why  should  he 
be  anxious?  Who  was  it  he  had  missed?  "  I  will 
send  her  to  you  the  moment  she  arrives."  No — she 
could  not  have  said  that — it  was  impossible  that  she 
should  have  said  that.  He  must  have  misunderstood ; 
his  German  was  very  second-rate,  and  she  had 
spoken  rapidly.  But  what  had  she  said? 


THE  SATIN  SLIPPERS  55 

He  was  still  pondering  this  problem,  when  a 
knock  at  the  door  told  him  that  the  hot  water  had 
arrived.  As  he  opened  the  door,  the  landlady's  voice 
came  shrilly  up  the  stair. 

"  Hans !  "  she  called.  "  There  is  something  wrong 
with  the  stove.  Hasten !  Hasten !  " 

Stewart  took  the  can  which  was  thrust  hastily 
into  his  hand,  turned  back  into  the  room,  and  pro 
ceeded  to  make  a  leisurely  toilet.  If  the  landlady 
had  not  told  him,  he  would  never  have  suspected 
that  his  baggage  had  been  searched  by  the  police, 
for  everything  seemed  to  be  where  he  had  left  it. 
But  then  he  was  a  hasty  and  careless  packer,  by  no 
means  precise 

That  vague  feeling  of  uneasiness  which  had 
shaken  him  in  the  church  swept  over  him  again, 
stronger  than  before;  there  was  something  wrong 
somewhere;  the  meshes  of  an  invisible  net  seemed 
closing  about  him.  More  than  once  he  caught  him 
self  standing  quite  still,  in  an  attitude  of  profound 
meditation,  though  he  was  not  conscious  that  he  had 
really  been  thinking  of  anything.  Evidently  the 
events  of  the  day  had  shaken  him  more  deeply 
than  he  had  realized. 

"  Come,  old  man,"  he  said  at  last,  "  this  won't 
do.  Pull  yourself  together." 


5 6          THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

And  then  a  sudden  vivid  memory  rose  before  him 
of  those  praying  women,  of  that  wrinkled  mother 
gazing  despairingly  after  her  youngest  born  as  he 
was  marched  away  perhaps  forever,  of  the  set  faces 
of  the  crowd  shuffling  silently  homeward 

He  had  been  absently  turning  over  the  contents 
of  one  of  his  bags,  searching  for  a  necktie,  when 
he  found  himself  staring  at  a  pair  of  satin  ball- 
slippers,  into  each  of  which  was  stuffed  a  blue  silk 
stocking.  For  quite  a  minute  he  stared,  doubting 
his  own  senses;  then  he  picked  up  one  of  the  slip 
pers  and  looked  at  it. 

It  was  a  tiny  affair,  very  delicate  and  beautiful — 
a  real  jewel  in  footwear,  such  as  Stewart,  with 
his  limited  feminine  experience,  had  never  seen  be 
fore.  Indeed,  he  might  have  doubted  that  they  were 
intended  for  actual  service,  but  for  the  slight  dis 
coloration  inside  the  heel,  which  proved  that  these 
had  been  worn  more  than  once.  Very  deliberately 
he  drew  out  the  stocking,  also  a  jewel  in  its  way,  of  a 
texture  so  diaphanous  as  to  be  almost  cobweblike. 
Then  he  picked  up  the  other  slipper  and  held  them 
side  by  side.  Yes,  they  were  mates 

"  But  where  on  earth  could  I  hare  picked  them 
up?"  he  asked  himself.  "In  what  strange  fit  of 
absent-mindedness  could  I  have  packed  them  with 


THE  SATIN  SLIPPERS  57 

my  things  ?  But  I  couldn't  have  picked  them  up — 
I  never  saw  them  before " 

He  sat  down  suddenly,  a  slipper  in  either  hand. 
They  must  have  come  from  somewhere — they  could 
not  have  concealed  themselves  among  his  things. 
If  he  had  not  placed  them  there,  then  someone  else 
had.  But  who?  And  for  what  purpose?  The 
police?  His  landlady  had  said  that  they  had 
searched  his  luggage;  but  what  possible  object  could 
they  have  had  for  increasing  it  by  two  satin  slip 
pers  and  a  pair  of  stockings?  Such  an  action  was 
farcical — French-farcical! — but  he  could  not  be  in 
criminated  in  such  a  way.  He  had  no  wife  to  be 
made  jealous!  And  even  if  he  had 

"  This  is  the  last  straw !  "  he  muttered  to  him 
self.  "Either  the  world  has  gone  mad,  or  I 
have." 

Moving  as  in  a  dream,  he  placed  the  slippers  side 
by  side  upon  the  floor,  contemplated  them  for  a  mo 
ment  longer,  and  then  proceeded  slowly  with  his 
dressing.  He  found  an  unaccustomed  difficulty  in 
putting  his  buttons  in  his  cuffs,  and  then  he  remem 
bered  that  it  was  a  tie  he  had  been  looking  for  when 
he  found  the  slippers.  The  slippers!  He  turned 
and  glanced  at  them.  Yes — they  were  still  there — 
they  had  not  vanished.  Very  coquettish  they 


5 8         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

appeared,  standing  there  side  by  side,  as  though 
waiting  for  their  owner. 

And  suddenly  Stewart  smiled  a  crooked  smile. 

"  Only  one  thing  is  necessary  to  complete  this 
pantomime,"  he  told  himself,  "  and  that  is  that  the 
Princess  should  suddenly  appear  and  claim  them. 
Well,  I'm  willing!  A  woman  with  a  foot  like 
that " 

There  was  a  knock  at  the  door. 

"  In  a  moment !  "  he  called. 

"  But  it  is  I !  "  cried  a  woman's  voice  in  English — 
a  sweet,  high-pitched  voice,  quivering  with  excite 
ment.  "  It  is  I !  "  and  the  door  was  flung  open 
with  a  crash. 

A  woman  rushed  toward  him — he  saw  vaguely  her 
vivid  face,  her  shining  eyes;  behind  her,  more 
vaguely  still,  he  saw  the  staring  eyes  of  the  hang 
dog  waiter.  Then  she  was  upon  him. 

"  At  last ! "  she  cried,  and  flung  her  arms  about 
him  and  kissed  him  on  the  lips — kissed  him  closely, 
passionately,  as  he  had  never  been  kissed  before. 


STEWART,  standing  petrified,  collar  in  hand,  thrill 
ing  with  the  warmth  of  that  caress,  was  conscious 
that  his  free  arm  had  dropped  about  the  woman's 
waist,  and  that  she  was  cuddling  to  him,  patting 
him  excitedly  on  the  cheek  and  smiling  up  into  his 
eyes.  Then,  over  her  shoulder,  he  caught  a  glimpse 
of  the  sardonic  smile  on  the  ugly  face  of  the  waiter 
as  he  withdrew  and  closed  the  door. 

"  But  how  glad  I  am !  "  the  woman  rattled  on,  at 
the  top  of  her  voice.  "  And  what  a  journey!  I  am 
covered  with  dirt!  I  shall  need  gallons  of  water!  " 

She  walked  rapidly  to  the  door,  opened  it,  and 
looked  out.  Then  she  closed  and  locked  it,  and, 
to  his  amazement,  caught  up  one  of  his  handker 
chiefs  and  hung  it  over  the  knob  so  that  it  masked 
the  keyhole. 

"  They  will  not  suspect,"  she  said,  in  a  lower 
tone,  noticing  his  look.  "  They  will  suppose  it  is 
to  conceal  our  marital  endearments!  Now  we  can 

5* 


60         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

talk.  But  we  will  keep  to  English,  if  you  do  not 
mind.  Someone  might  pass.  Is  everything  ar 
ranged  ?  Is  the  passport  in  order  ?  " 

Her  eyes  were  shining  with  excitement,  her  lips 
were  trembling.  As  he  still  stood  staring,  she  came 
close  to  him  and  shook  his  arm. 

"  Can  it  be  that  you  do  not  know  English  ?  "  she 
demanded.  "  But  that  would  be  too  stupid !  You 
understand  English,  do  you  not?" 

"  Yes,  madam,"  stammered  Stewart.  "  At  least, 
I  have  always  thought  so." 

"Then  why  do  you  not  answer?  Is  anything 
wrong?  You  look  as  though  you  did  not  expect 
me." 

"  Madam,"  answered  Stewart,  gravely,  "  will 
you  kindly  pinch  me  on  the  arm — here  in  the  tender 
part?  I  have  been  told  that  is  a  test." 

She  nipped  him  with  a  violence  that  made  him 
jump. 

"  Do  not  tell  me  that  you  are  drunk !  "  she  hissed, 
viciously.  "  That  would  be  too  much !  Drunk  at 
such  a  moment !  " 

But  Stewart  had  begun  to  pull  himself  together. 

"  No,  madam,  I  am  not  drunk,"  he  assured  her; 
"  and  your  pinch  convinces  me  that  I  am  not  dream 
ing."  He  rubbed  his  arm  thoughtfully.  "  There 


ONE  WAY  TO  ACQUIRE  A  WIFE    61 

remains  only  one  hypothesis — that  I  have  suddenly 
gone  mad.  And  yet  I  have  never  heard  of  any 
madness  in  my  family,  nor  until  this  moment  de 
tected  any  symptoms  in  myself." 

"  Is  this  a  time  for  fooling  ?  "  she  snapped.  "  Tell 
me  at  once " 

"  There  is,  of  course,  another  hypothesis,"  went 
•n  Stewart,  calmly,  "  and  that  is  that  it  is  you  who 
are  mad " 

"  Were  you  not  expecting  me  ?  "  she  repeated. 

Stewart's  eyes  fell  upon  the  satin  slippers,  and  he 
smiled. 

"  Why,  certainly  I  was  expecting  you,"  he  an 
swered.  "  I  was  just  saying  to  myself  that  the  only 
thing  lacking  in  this  fairy-tale  was  the  beautiful 
Cinderella — and  presto;  there  you  were!" 

She  looked  at  him  wildly,  her  eyes  dark  with  fear. 
Suddenly  she  caught  her  lower  lip  between  the  thumb 
and  little  finger  of  her  left  hand,  and  stood  a  moment 
expectantly,  holding  it  so  and  staring  up  at  him. 
Then,  as  he  stared  back  uncomprehendingly,  she 
dropped  into  a  chair  and  burst  into  a  flood  of 
tears. 

Now  a  pretty  woman  in  tears  is,  as  everyone 
knows,  a  sight  to  melt  a  heart  of  stone,  especially  if 
that  heart  be  masculine.  This  woman  was  extremely 


62         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

pretty,  and  Stewart's  heart  was  very  masculine,  with 
nothing  granitic  about  it. 

"  Oh,  come,"  he  protested,  "  it  can't  be  so  bad  as 
that !  Let  us  sit  down  and  talk  this  thing  out  quietly. 
Evidently  there  is  a  mistake  somewhere." 

"  Then  you  did  not  expect  me?"  she  demanded, 
mopping  her  eyes. 

"  Expect  you  ?  No — except  as  the  fulfillment  of 
a  fairy-tale." 

"  You  do  not  knovr  who  I  am  ?  " 

"  I  haven't  the  slightest  idea." 

"  Nor  why  I  am  here  ?  " 

"  No." 

"Ah,  del!"  she  breathed,  "  then  I  am  lost!  "  and 
she  turned  so  pale  that  Stewart  thought  she  was 
going  to  faint. 

"Lost!"  he  protested.  "In  what  way  lost? 
What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

By  a  mighty  effort  she  fought  back  the  faint- 
ness  and  regained  a  little  of  her  self-control. 

"  At  this  hotel,"  she  explained,  in  a  hoarse  voice, 
"  I  was  to  have  met  a  man  who  was  to  accompany 
me  across  the  frontier.  He  had  a  passport  for  both 
of  us — for  himself  and  for  his  wife." 

"  You  were  to  pass  as  his  wife?  " 

"Yes." 


ONE  WAY  TO  ACQUIRE  A  WIFE     63 

"  But  you  did  not  know  the  man  ?  " 

"  Evidently — or  I  should  not  have " 

She  stopped,  her  face  crimson  with  embarrass 
ment. 

"  H-m !  "  said  Stewart,  reflecting  that  he,  at  least, 
had  no  reason  to  regret  the  mistake.  "  Perhaps  this 
unknown  is  in  some  other  room." 

"  No;  you  are  the  only  person  in  the  hotel." 
"  Evidently,  then,  he  has  not  arrived." 
"  Evidently,"  she  assented,  and  stared  moodily  at 
the   floor,    twisting  her   handkerchief   in   nervous, 
trembling  hands. 

Stewart  rubbed  his  chin  thoughtfully  as  he  looked 
at  her.  She  seemed  not  more  than  twenty,  and  she 
was  almost  startlingly  beautiful,  with  that  peculiar 
lustrous  duskiness  of  skin  more  common  among  the 
Latin  races  than  with  us.  Slightly  built,  she  yet 
gave  the  impression  of  having  in  reserve  unusual 
nervous  energy,  which  would  brace  her  to  meet  any 
crisis. 

But  what  was  she  doing  here?  Why  should  she 
be  driven  to  leave  Germany  as  the  wife  of  a  man 
whom  she  had  never  seen?  Or  was  it  all  a  lie — 
was  she  merely  an  adventuress  seeking  a  fresh 
victim  ? 

Stewart  looked  at  her  again,  then  he  put  that 


g4         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

thought  away,  definitely  and  forever.  He  had  had 
enough  experience  of  women,  as  surgeon  in  a  public 
clinic,  to  tell  innocence  from  vice ;  and  he  knew  that 
it  was  innocence  he  was  facing  now. 

"  You  say  you  can't  leave  Germany  without  a 
passport  ?  "  he  asked  at  last. 

"  No  one  can  leave  Germany  without  a  pass 
port."  She  sat  up  suddenly  and  looked  at  him,  a  new 
light  in  her  eyes.  "  Is  it  possible,"  she  demanded, 
with  trembling  lips,  "  can  it  be  possible  that  you 
possess  a  passport  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes,"  said  Stewart,  "  I  have  a  passport. 
Unfortunately,  it  is  for  myself  alone.  Never  hav 
ing  had  a  wife " 

But  she  was  standing  before  him,  her  hands  out 
stretched,  tremulous  with  eagerness. 

"  Let  me  see  it !  "  she  cried.    "  Oh,  let  me  see  it !  " 

He  got  it  out,  gave  it  to  her,  and  watched  her  as 
she  unfolded  it.  Here  was  a  woman,  he  told  him 
self,  such  as  he  had  never  met  before — a  woman  of 
verve,  of  fire 

She  was  looking  up  at  him  with  flaming  eyes. 

"  Mr.  Stewart,"  she  said,  in  a  low  voice,  "  you 
can  save  me,  if  you  will." 

"  Save  you?  "  echoed  Stewart.     "  But  how?  " 

She  held  the  open  passport  toward  him. 


ONE  WAY  TO  ACQUIRE  A  WIFE     65 

"  See,  here,  just  below  your  name,  there  is  a 
blank  space  covered  with  little  parallel  lines.  If 
you  will  permit  me  to  write  in  that  space  the  words 
'  accompanied  by  his  wife,'  I  am  saved.  The  pass 
port  will  then  be  for  both  of  us." 

"  Or  would  be,"  agreed  Stewart,  dryly,  "  if  you 
were  my  wife.  As  it  happens,  you  are  not!" 

"  It  is  such  a  little  thing  I  ask  of  you,"  she 
pleaded.  "  We  go  to  the  station  together — we  take 
our  seats  in  the  train — at  the  frontier  you  show  your 
passport.  An  hour  later  we  shall  be  at  Liege,  and 
there  our  ways  will  part;  but  you  will  have  done 
a  noble  action." 

There  was  witchery  in  her  eyes,  in  her  voice. 
Stewart  felt  himself  slipping — slipping;  but  he 
caught  himself  in  time. 

"  I  am  afraid,"  he  said,  gently,  "  that  you  wiQ 
have  to  tell  me  first  what  it  is  all  about." 

"  I  can  tell  you  in  a  word,"  she  answered,  draw/ 
ing  very  near  to  him,  and  speaking  almost  in  a 
whisper.  "  I  am  a  Frenchwoman." 

"  But  surely,"  Stewart  protested,  "  the  Germans 
will  not  prevent  your  return  to  France!  Why 
should  they  do  that?" 

"  It  is  not  a  question  of  returning,  but  of  escap 
ing.  I  am  an  Alsatian.  I  was  born  at  Strassburg." 


66         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

"  Oh,"  said  Stewart,  remembering  the  tone  in 
which  Bloem  had  spoken  of  Alsace-Lorraine  and 
beginning  vaguely  to  understand.  "  An  Alsatian." 

"  Yes;  but  only  Alsatians  understand  the  meaning 
of  that  word.  To  be  an  Alsatian  is  to  be  a  slave, 
is  to  be  the  victim  of  insult,  oppression,  tyranny  past 
all  belief.  My  father  was  murdered  by  the  Ger 
mans  ;  my  two  brothers  have  been  dragged  away  into 
the  German  army  and  sent  to  fight  the  Russians, 
since  Germany  knows  well  that  no  Alsatian  corps 
would  fight  the  French !  Oh,  how  we  have  prayed 
and  prayed  for  this  war  of  restitution — the  war 
which  will  give  us  back  to  France !  " 

"  Yes ;  I  hope  it  will,"  agreed  Stewart,  heartily. 

"  Of  a  certainty  you  do !  "  she  said,  eagerly.  "  All 
'Americans  do.  Not  one  have  I  ever  known  who 
took  the  German  side.  How  could  they  ?  How  could 
any  American  be  on  the  side  of  despotism?  Oh, 
impossible !  America  is  on  our  side !  And  you,  as 
an  American,  will  assist  me  to  escape  my  enemies." 

"  Your  enemies  ?  " 

"  I  will  not  deceive  you,"  she  said,  earnestly.  "  I 
trust  you.  I  have  lived  all  my  life  at  Strassburg  and 
at  Metz,  those  two  outposts  against  France — those 
two  great  fortresses  of  cities  which  the  Germans 
have  done  their  utmost  to  make  impregnable,  but 


ONE  WAY  TO  ACQUIRE  A  WIFE     67 

which  are  not  impregnable  if  attacked  in  a  cer 
tain  way.  They  have  their  weak  spot,  just  as  every 
fortress  has.  I  have  dissembled,  I  have  lied — I 
have  pretended  to  admire  the  gold-laced  pigs — I  have 
permitted  them  to  kiss  my  hand — I  have  listened  to 
their  confidences,  their  hopes  and  fears — I  have  even 
joined  in  their  toast  '  The  Day ! '  Always,  always 
have  I  kept  my  eyes  and  ears  open.  Bit  by  bit,  have 
I  gathered  what  I  sought — a  hint  here,  a  hint  there 
...  I  must  get  to  France,  my  friend,  and  you  must 
help  me!  Surely  you  will  be  glad  to  strike  a  blow 
at  these  braggart  Prussians!  It  is  not  for  myself 
I  ask  it — though,  if  I  am  taken,  there  will  be 
for  me  only  one  brief  moment,  facing  a  file  of 
soldiers;  I  ask  it  for  France — for  your  sister 
Republic!" 

If  it  had  been  for  France  alone,  Stewart  might 
still  have  hesitated;  but  as  he  gazed  down  into  that 
eloquent  face,  wrung  with  desperate  anxiety,  he 
seemed  to  see,  as  in  a  vision,  a  file  of  soldiers  in 
spiked  helmets  facing  a  wall  where  stood  a  lovely 
girl,  her  eyes  flaming,  her  head  flung  back,  smiling 
contemptuously  at  the  leveled  rifles;  he  saw  again 
the  flickering  candles  at  the  Virgin's  feet 

"  Very  well,"  he  said,  abruptly — almost  harshly. 
"  I  consent." 


68         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

Before  he  could  draw  back,  she  had  flung  herself 
on  her  knees  before  him,  had  caught  his  hand,  and 
was  covering  it  with  tears  and  kisses. 

"  Come,  come,  my  dear,"  he  said.  "  That  won't 
do !  "  And  he  bent  over  her  and  raised  her  to  her 
feet. 

She  was  shaken  with  great  sobs,  and  as  she  turned 
her  streaming  eyes  up  to  him,  her  lips  moving  as  if  in 
prayer,  Stewart  saw  how  young  she  was,  how  lonely  x 
how  beautiful,  how  greatly  in  need  of  help.  She 
had  been  fighting  for  her  country  with  all  her 
strength,  with  every  resource,  desperately,  every 
nerve  a-strain — and  victory  had  been  too  much  for 
her.  But  in  a  moment  she  had  back  her  self- 
control. 

"  There,  it  is  finished !  "  she  said,  smiling  through 
her  tears.  "  But  the  joy  of  your  words  was  almost 
too  great.  I  shall  not  behave  like  that  again.  And 
I  shall  not  try  to  thank  you.  I  think  you  under 
stand — I  cannot  thank  you — there  are  no  words 
great  enough." 

Stewart  nodded,  smilingly. 

"  Yes;  I  understand,"  he  said. 

"  We  have  many  things  to  do,"  she  went  on, 
rapidly,  passing  her  handkerchief  across  her  eyes 
with  the  gesture  of  one  who  puts  sentiment  aside. 


ONE  WAY  TO  ACQUIRE  A  WIFE     69 

"  First,  the  passport,"  and  she  caught  it  up  from 
the  chair  on  which  she  had  laid  it. 

"  I  would  point  out  to  you,"  said  Stewart,  "  that 
there  may  be  a  certain  danger  in  adding  the  words 
you  mentioned." 

"  But  it  is  precisely  for  those  words  this  blank 
space  has  been  left." 

"  That  may  be  true ;  but  unless  your  handwriting 
is  identical  with  that  on  the  rest  of  the  passport,  and 
the  ink  the  same,  the  first  person  who  looks  at  it 
will  detect  the  forgery." 

"  Trust  me,"  she  said,  and  drawing  a  chair  to  the 
table,  laid  the  passport  before  her  and  studied  it 
carefully.  From  the  little  bag  she  had  carried  on 
her  arm,  she  took  a  fountain-pen.  She  tested  it  on 
ker  finger-nail,  and  then,  easily  and  rapidly,  wrote 
"  accompanied  by  his  wife  "  across  the  blank  space 
below  Stewart's  name. 

Stewart,  staring  down  over  her  shoulder,  was 
astonished  by  the  cleverness  of  the  forgery.  It  was 
perfect. 

"  There,"  she  added,  "  let  it  lie  for  five  minutes 
and  no  one  on  earth  can  tell  that  those  words  were 
not  written  at  the  same  time  and  by  the  same  hand 
as  all  the  others." 

A  sudden  doubt  shook  her  hearer.    Where  had  she 


70         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

learned  to  forge  like  that  ?    Perhaps,  after  all 

She  read  his  thought  in  his  eyes. 

"  To  imitate  handwriting  is  something  which 
every  member  of  the  secret  service  must  learn  to 
do.  This,  on  your  passport,  is  a  formal  hand  very 
easily  imitated.  But  I  must  rid  myself  of  this 
pen." 

She  glanced  quickly  about  the  room,  went  to 
the  open  fireplace  and  threw  the  pen  above  the  bricks 
which  closed  it  off  from  the  flue.  Then  she  came 
back,  motioned  him  to  sit  down,  and  drew  a  chair 
very  close  to  his. 

"  Now  we  have  certain  details  to  arrange,"  she 
said.  "  Your  name  is  Bradford  Stewart?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Have  you  a  sobriquet  ?  " 

"A  what?" 

"  A  name  of  familiarity,"  she  explained,  "  used 
only  by  your  family  or  your  friends." 

"Oh,  a  nickname!  Well,"  he  admitted,  unwill 
ingly,  "  my  father  always  called  me  Tommy." 

"Tommy!    Excellent!    I  shall  call  you  Tommy !" 

"  But  I  detest  Tommy,"  he  objected. 

"  No  matter !  "  she  said,  peremptorily.  "  It  will 
have  to  do.  What  is  your  profession?" 

"  I  am  a  surgeon," 


ONE  WAY  TO  ACQUIRE  A  WIFE     71 

"  Where  do  you  live  in  America  ?  " 

**  At  Baltimore,  in  the  State  of  Maryland."* 

"  Where  have  you  been  in  Europe?  " 

"  To  a  clinical  congress  at  Vienna,  and  then  back 
through  Germany." 

"Perfect!  It  could  not  be  better!  Now,  listen 
most  carefully.  The  name  of  your  wife  is  Mary. 
You  have  been  married  four  years." 

"Any  children?"  asked  Stewart. 

"  Please  be  serious !  "  she  protested,  but  from  the 
sparkle  in  her  eye  Stewart  saw  that  she  was  not 
offended. 

"  I  should  have  liked  a  boy  of  three  and  a  girl  of 
two,"  he  explained.  "  But  no  matter — go  ahead." 

"  While  you  went  to  Vienna  to  attend  your  hor 
rible  clinic  and  learn  new  ways  of  cutting  up  human 
bodies,  your  wife  remained  at  Spa,  because  of  a 
slight  nervous  affection " 

"  From  which,"  said  Stewart,  "  I  am  happy  to  see 
that  she  has  entirely  recovered." 

"  Yes,"  she  agreed;  "  she  is  quite  well  again.  Spa 
is  in  Belgium,  so  the  Germans  cannot  disprove  the 
story.  We  arranged  to  meet  here  and  to  go  on  to 
Brussels  together.  Do  you  understand  ?  " 

"  Perfectly,"  said  Stewart,  who  was  thoroughly 
enjoying  himself.  "  By  the  way,  Mary,"  he  added, 


72         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

"  no  doubt  it  was  your  shoes  and  stockings  I  found 
in  my  grip  awhile  ago,"  and  he  pointed  to  where  the 
slippers  stood  side  by  side. 

His  companion  stared  at  them  for  an  instant  in 
amazement,  then  burst  into  a  peal  of  laughter. 

"  How  ridiculous !  But  yes — they  were  intended 
for  mine." 

"  How  did  they  get  into  my  luggage  ?  " 

"  The  woman  who  manages  this  inn  placed  them 
there.  She  is  one  of  us." 

"But  what  on  earth  for?" 

"  So  that  the  police  might  find  them  whe»  they 
searched  your  bags." 

"  Why  should  they  search  my  bags  ?  " 

"  There  is  a  certain  suspicion  attaching  to  this 
place.  It  is  impossible  altogether  to  avoid  it — so 
it  is  necessary  to  be  very  careful.  The  landlady 
thought  that  the  discovery  of  the  slippers  might,  in  a 
measure,  prepare  the  police  for  the  arrival  of  your 
wife." 

'  Then  she  knew  you  were  coming?" 

"  Certainly — since  last  night." 

"  And  when  the  man  who  was  to  meet  you  did  not 
arrive,  she  decided  that  I  would  do?" 

"  I  suppose  so." 

"  But  how  did  she  know  I  had  a  passport  ?  " 


ONE  WAY  TO  ACQUIRE  A  WIFE     73 

"  Perhaps  you  told  her." 

Yes,  Stewart  reflected,  he  had  told  her,  and  yet 
ke  was  not  altogether  satisfied.  When  had  he  told 
her?  Surely  it  was  not  until  he  returned  from  his 
tour  of  the  town ;  then  there  was  not  time 

"  Here  is  your  passport,"  said  his  companion, 
abruptly  breaking  in  upon  his  thoughts.  "  Fold  it 
up  and  place  it  in  your  pocket.  And  do  not  find  it 
too  readily  when  the  police  ask  for  it.  You  must 
seem  not  to  know  exactly  where  it  is.  Also  pack 
your  belongings.  Yes,  you  would  better  include  the 
slippers.  Meanwhile  I  shall  try  to  make  myself  a 
little  presentable,"  and  she  opened  the  tiny  bag  from 
which  she  had  produced  the  pen. 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  said  Stewart,  as  he  proceeded 
to  obey,  "  that  one  pair  of  slippers  and  one  pair  of 
stockings  is  rather  scanty  baggage  for  a  lady  who 
has  been  at  Spa  for  a  month." 

"  My  baggage  went  direct  from  Spa  to  Brussels," 
she  answered  from  before  the  mirror,  "  in  order  to 
avoid  the  customs  examination  at  the  frontier. 
Have  you  any  other  questions  ?  " 

"  Only  the  big  one  as  to  who  you  really  are,  and 
where  I'm  going  to  see  you  again  after  you  have  de 
livered  your  report — and  all  that." 

His  back  was  toward  her  as  he  bent  orer  his  bags, 


74          THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

and  he  did  not  see  the  quick  glance  she  cast  at 
him. 

"  It  is  impossible  to  discuss  that  now,"  she  said, 
hastily.  "  And  I  would  warn  you  that  the  servant, 
Hans,  is  a  spy.  Be  very  careful  before  him — be 
careful  always,  until  we  are  safe  across  the  frontier. 
There  will  be  spies  everywhere — a  false  word,  a 
false  movement,  and  all  may  be  lost.  Are  you 
ready?" 

Stewart,  rising  from  buckling  the  last  strap,  found 
himself  confronting  the  most  adorable  girl  he  had 
ever  seen.  Every  trace  of  the  journey  had  disap 
peared.  Her  cheeks  were  glowing,  her  eyes  were 
shining,  and  when  she  smiled,  Stewart  noticed  a 
dimple  set  diagonally  at  the  corner  of  her  mouth — 
a  dimple  evidently  placed  just  there  to  invite  and 
challenge  kisses. 

The  admiration  which  flamed  into  his  eyes  was 
perhaps  a  trifle  too  ardent,  for,  looking  at  him 
steadily,  she  took  a  quick  step  toward  him. 

"  We  are  going  to  be  good  friends,  are  we  not  ?  " 
she  asked.  "  Good  comrades  ?  " 

And  Stewart,  looking  down  at  her,  understood. 
She  was  pleading  for  respect;  she  was  telling  him 
that  she  trusted  him;  she  was  reminding  him  of  the 
defenselessness  of  her  girlhood,  driven  by  hard 


ONE  WAY  TO  ACQUIRE  A  WIFE    75 

necessity  into  this  strange  adventure.  And,  under 
standing,  he  reached  out  and  caught  her  hand. 

"  Yes,"  he  agreed.  "  Good  comrades.  Just 
that !  " 

She  gave  his  fingers  a  swift  pressure. 

"  Thank  you,"  she  said.  "  Now  we  must  go 
down.  Dinner  will  be  waiting.  Fortunately  the 
train  is  very  late." 

Stewart,  glancing  at  his  watch,  saw  that  it  was  al 
most  six  o'clock. 

"  You  are  sure  it  is  late  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Yes ;  at  least  an  hour.  We  will  send  someone  tp 
inquire.  Remember  what  I  have  told  you  about  the 
waiter — about  everyone.  Not  for  an  instant  must 
we  drop  the  mask,  even  though  we  may  think  our 
selves  unobserved.  You  will  remember  ?  " 

"  I  will  try  to,"  Stewart  promised.  "  But  don't 
be  disappointed  if  you  find  me  a  poor  actor.  I  am 
not  in  your  class  at  all.  However,  if  you'll  give  me 
the  cue,  I  think  I  can  follow  it." 

"  I  know  you  can.  Come,"  and  she  opened  the 
door,  restoring  him  the  handkerchief  which  she  had 
hung  over  the  knob. 

As  they  went  down  the  stair  together,  Stewart  saw 
the  landlady  waiting  anxiously  at  the  foot.  One 
glance  at  them,  and  her  face  became  radiant. 


76         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

"  Ah,  you  are  late !  "  she  cried,  shaking  a  reprov 
ing  finger.  "  But  I  expected  it.  I  would  not  permit 
Hans  to  call  you.  When  husband  and  wife  meet 
after  a  long  separation,  they  do  not  wish  to  be  dis- 
jturbed — not  even  for  dinner.  This  way!  I  have 
'placed  the  table  in  the  court — it  is  much  pleasanter 
there  when  the  days  are  so  warm,"  and  she  bustled 
before  them  to  a  vine-shaded  corner  of  the  court, 
where  a  snowy  table  awaited  them. 

A  moment  later  Hans  entered  with  the  soup. 
Stewart,  happening  to  meet  his  glance,  read  the  sus 
picion  there. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  breaking  off  a  piece  of  the  crisp 
bread,  "  this  is  almost  like  home,  isn't  it  ?  I  can't 
tell  you,  Mary,  how  glad  I  am  to  have  you  back 
again,"  and  he  reached  out  and  gave  her  hand  a 
little  squeeze.  "  Looking  so  well,  too.  Spa  was 
evidently  just  the  place  for  you." 

"  Yes — it  was  very  pleasant  and  the  doctor  was 
very  kind.  But  I  am  glad  to  get  back  to  you, 
Tommy,"  she  added,  gazing  at  him  fondly.  "  I 
could  weep  with  joy  just  to  look  at  that  honest  face 
of  yours! " 

Stewart  felt  his  heart  skip  a  beat. 

"  You  will  make  me  conceited,  if  you  don't  take 
care,  old  lady !  "  he  protested.  "  And  surely  I've  got 


ONE  WAY  TO  ACQUIRE  A  WIFE     77 

enough  cause  for  conceit  already,  with  the  most 
beautiful  woman  in  the  world  sitting  across  from 
me,  telling  me  she  loves  me.  Don't  blame  me  if  I 
lose  my  head  a  little !  " 

The  ardor  in  his  tone  brought  the  color  into  her 
•heeks. 

"  You  must  not  look  at  me  like  that ! "  she  re 
proved.  "  People  will  think  we  are  on  our  moon  of 
— our  honeymoon,"  she  corrected,  hastily. 

"  Instead  of  having  been  married  four  years !  I 
wonder  how  John  and  Sallie  are  getting  along? 
Aren't  you  just  crazy  to  see  the  kids!  " 

She  choked  over  her  soup,  but  managed  to  nod 
mutely.  Then,  as  Hans  removed  the  plates  and  dis 
appeared  in  the  direction  of  the  kitchen,  he  added  in 
a  lower  tone,  "  You  must  allow  me  the  children.  I 
find  I  can't  be  happy  without  them ! " 

"  Very  well,"  she  agreed,  the  dimple  sparkling. 
"  You  have  been  so  kind  that  it  is  impossible  for  me 
to  refuse  you  anything !  " 

"There  is  one  thing  I  can't  understand.  Your, 
English  astonishes  me.  Where  did  you  learn  to 
speak  it  so  perfectly  ?  " 

"  Ah,  that  is  a  long  story !  Perhaps  I  shall  one 
day  tell  it  to  you — if  we  ever  meet  again." 

"  We  must !    I  demand  that  as  my  reward !  " 


78          THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

She  held  up  a  warning  finger  as  steps  sounded 
along  the  passage;  but  it  was  only  the  landlady 
bringing  the  wine.  That  good  woman  was  exuberant 
—a  trifle  too  exuberant,  as  Stewart's  companion  told 
her  with  a  quick  glance. 

The  dinner  proceeded  from  course  to  course. 
Stewart  had  never  enjoyed  a  meal  more  thoroughly. 
What  meal,  he  asked  himself,  could  possibly  be  com 
monplace,  shared  by  such  a  woman? 

The  landlady  presently  dispatched  Hans  to  the 
station  to  inquire  about  the  train,  while  she  herself 
did  the  serving,  and  the  two  women  ventured  to  ex 
change  a  few  words  concerning  their  instructions. 
Stewart,  listening,  caught  a  glimpse  of  an  intricate 
system  of  espionage  extending  to  the  very  heart  of 
Germany.  But  he  asked  no  questions ;  indeed,  some 
instinct  held  him  back  from  wishing  to  know  more. 
"  Spy  "  is  not  a  pretty  word,  nor  is  a  spy's  work 
pretty  work ;  he  refused  to  think  of  it  in  connection 
with  the  lovely  girl  opposite  him. 

"  We  shall  have  the  police  with  us  soon,"  said  the 
landlady,  in  a  low  tone.  "  Hans  will  run  at  once  to 
tell  them  of  Madame's  arrival." 

"  Why  do  you  keep  him?  "  Stewart  asked. 

"  It  is  by  keeping  him  that  I  avert  suspicion. 
If  there  was  anything  wrong  here,  the  police  tell 


ONE  WAY  TO  ACQUIRE  A  WIFE     79 

themselves,  this  spy  of  theirs  would  discover  it. 
Knowing  him  to  be  a  spy,  I  am  on  my  guard.  Be 
sides,  he  is  very  stupid.  But  there — I  will  leave 
you.  He  may  be  back  at  any  moment." 

He  came  back  just  in  time  to  serve  the  coffee,  with 
the  information  that  their  train  would  not  arrive 
until  seven-thirty ;  then  he  stood  watching  them  and 
listening  to  their  talk  of  home  and  friends  and  plans 
for  the  future. 

Stewart  began  to  be  proud  of  his  facility  of  in 
vention,  and  of  his  abilities  as  an  actor.  But  he  had 
to  admit  that  he  was  the  merest  bungler  compared 
with  his  companion.  Her  mental  quickness  dazzled 
him,  her  high  spirits  were  far  more  exhilarating  than 
the  wine.  He  ended  by  forgetting  that  he  was  play 
ing  a  part.  This  woman  was  really  his  wife,  they 
were  going  on  together 

Suddenly  Hans  stirred  in  his  corner.  Heavy 
steps  were  coming  toward  the  court  along  the  sanded 
floor  of  the  corridor.  In  a  moment  three  men  in 
spiked  helmets  stepped  out  into  the  fading  light  of 
the  evening. 

"  The  police  to  speak  to  you,  sir,"  said  Hans,  and 
Stewart,  turning,  found  himself  looking  into  three 
faces,  in  which  hostility  and  suspicion  were  only  too 
apparent. 


CHAPTER   VI 
THE  SNARE 

As  the  three  men  advanced  to  the  table,  Stewart 
saw  that  each  of  them  carried  a  heavy  pistol  in  a 
holster  at  his  belt. 

"You  speak  German?"  one  of  them  asked, 
gruffly. 

"  A  little.  But  I  would  prefer  to  speak  English," 
answered  Stewart. 

"  We  will  speak  German.  What  is  your  nation 
ality?" 

"  I  am  an  American." 

"  Were  you  born  in  America  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Have  you  a  passport  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Let  me  see  it." 

Stewart  was  about  to  reach  into  his  pocket  and 
produce  it,  when  he  remembered  his  companion's 
suggestion.  So  he  felt  in  one  pocket  after  another" 
without  result,  while  the  Germans  shifted  imps* 
tiently  from  foot  to  foot. 

80 


THE  SNARE  81 

"  It  must  be  in  my  other  coat,"  he  said,  half  to 
himself,  enjoying  the  situation  immensely.  "  But 
no ;  I  do  not  remember  changing  it.  Ah,  here  it  is !  " 
and  he  drew  it  forth  and  handed  it  to  the  officer. 

The  latter  took  it,  unfolded  it,  and  stepped  out* 
into  the  court  where  the  light  was  better.    He  read  it 
through  carefully,  compared  the  description  point  by 
point  with  Stewart's  appearance,  and  then  came  back 
to  the  table. 

"Who  is  this  person?"  he  asked,  and  nodded 
toward  the  girl. 

"  She  is  my  wife,"  answered  Stewart,  with  a 
readiness  which  astonished  himself. 

"  She  did  not  arrive  here  with  you." 

"  No,"  and  he  told  the  story  of  how  he  had  left 
her  at  Spa  to  recuperate  from  a  slight  nervous  at 
tack,  while  he  himself  went  on  to  Vienna.  He 
omitted  no  detail — even  added  a  few,  indeed,  in  the 
fervor  of  creation — and  with  his  limited  German, 
which  his  hearers  regarded  with  evident  contempt, 
the  story  took  some  time  to  tell. 

The  police  listened  attentively  to  every  word,  with-  ( 
out  the  slightest  sign  of  impatience,  but  long  before 
it  was  ended,  the  lady  in  question  was  twisting  nerv 
ously  in  her  seat. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  Tommy  ?  "  she  demanded, 


82         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

petulantly.  "  Are  you  relating  to  them  the  story  of 
your  life?  " 

"  No,"  he  explained,  blandly,  venturing  at  last 
to  look  at  her,  "  I  was  just  telling  them  how  it 
was  that  you  and  I  had  arranged  to  meet  at  this 
hotel." 

"  Well — now  tell  them  to  go  away.  They  are 
ugly  and  they  annoy  me." 

"What  does  she  say?"  asked  the  officer. 

Stewart  was  certain  that  at  least  one  of  them 
knew  English,  so  he  judged  it  best  to  translate 
literally. 

"  She  wants  to  know  what  is  the  matter,"  he  an 
swered.  "  She  asks  me  to  tell  you  to  go  away — that 
you  annoy  her." 

The  officer  smiled  grimly. 

"  She  does  not  understand  German  ?  " 

"  Not  a  word,"  lied  Stewart,  glibly. 

"What  is  her  name?" 

"  Mary." 

"  Her  maiden  name  ?  " 

"  Mary  Agnes  Fleming,"  answered  Stewart,  re 
peating  the  first  name  that  occurred  to  him,  and 
thanking  his  stars  the  next  instant  that  the  officer 
could  scarcely  be  acquainted  with  the  lesser  lights 
of  English  fiction. 


THE  SNARE  83 

"  Is  that  correct  ?  "  asked  the  officer,  suddenly 
turning  upon  her. 

Stewart's  heart  gave  a  leap  of  fear;  but  after  a 
stare  at  the  officer,  she  turned  to  her  companion. 

"  Was  he  speaking  to  me,  Tommy?"  she  asked; 
and  it  was  only  by  a  heroic  effort  that  Stewart 
choked  back  the  sudden  snort  of  laughter  that  rose 
in  his  throat. 

"Yes,"  he  managed  to  answer;  "he  wants  to 
know  your  maiden  name." 

"  Why  should  he  wish  to  know  that  ?  " 

"  I  give  it  up ;  but  you'd  better  tell  him." 

"  My  maiden  name  was  Mary  Agnes  Fleming," 
she  said,  looking  at  the  officer  with  evident  disap 
probation.  "  Though  what  concern  it  is  of  yours  I 
cannot  see." 

"  What  does  she  say  ?  "  demanded  the  officer,  and 
again  Stewart  translated  literally. 

The  officer  stood  staring  intently  at  both  of  them, 
till  the  lady,  with  a  flash  of  indignation,  turned  her 
back. 

"  Really,  Tommy,"  she  said,  over  her  shoulder, 
"  if  you  do  not  at  once  get  rid  of  this  brute,  I  shall 
never  speak  to  you  again !  " 

"  He  is  a  policeman,  dear,"  Stewart  explained, 
"  and  imagines  that  he  is  doing  his  duty.  I  sup- 


84          THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACB 

pose  they  do  have  to  be  careful  in  war-time.     We 
must  be  patient." 

"  I  will  look  at  her  passport,"  said  the  German, 
suddenly,  and  held  out  his  hand. 

"  My  passport  is  for  both  of  us,"  Stewart  ex 
plained.  "  Those  words  '  accompanied  by  his  wife,' 
make  it  inclusive." 

The  officer  went  out  into  the  light  again  and  ex 
amined  the  words  with  minute  attention. 

"  I  find  no  description  of  her,"  he  said,  coming 
back. 

'There  is  none,"  assented  Stewart,  impatiently; 
"  but  there  is  a  description  of  me,  as  you  see.  The 
passport  adds  that  I  am  accompanied  by  my  wife. 
I  tell  you  that  this  lady  is  my  wife.  That  is  suffi 
cient." 

» 

The  officer  glanced  at  his  companions  uncertainly. 
Then  he  slowly  folded  up  the  passport  and  handed  it 
back. 

"  When  do  you  depart  from  Aachen  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  By  the  first  train  for  Brussels.  I  am  told  that 
it  will  arrive  in  about  half  an  hour." 

"  Very  well,"  said  the  other.  "  I  regret  if  I  have 
seemed  insistent,  but  the  fact  that  the  lady  did  not 
arrive  with  you  appeared  to  us  singular.  I  will 
report  your  explanation  to  my  chief,"  and  he  tmrned 


THE  SNARE  $5 

en  his  heel  and  stalked  away,  followed  by  his  men.' 

Stewart  drew  a  deep  breath. 

"  Well,"  he  began,  when  he  was  stopped  by  a 
sharp  tap  from  his  companion's  foot. 

"  Such  impudence !  "  she  cried.  "  I  was  aston 
ished  at  your  patience,  Tommy !  You,  an  American, 
letting  a  Prussian  policeman  intimidate  you  like  that ! 
I  am  ashamed  of  you !  " 

Glancing  around,  Stewart  saw  the  hang-dog  Hans 
hovering  in  the  doorway. 

"  He  was  a  big  policeman,  my  dear,'*  he  ex 
plained,  laughing.  "  I  shouldn't  have  had  much 
of  a  chance  with  him,  to  say  nothing  of  his  two 
men.  If  we  want  to  get  to  Brussels,  the  safest  plan 
is  to  answer  calmly  all  the  questions  the  German 
police  can  think  of.  But  it  is  time  for  us  to  be  going. 
There  will  be  no  reserved  seats  on  this  train !  " 

"  You  are  right,"  agreed  his  companion ;  "  I  am 
quite  ready." 

So  he  asked  for  the  bill,  paid  it,  sent  Hans  up 
for  the  luggage,  and  presently  they  were  walking 
t  toward  the  station,  with  Hans  staggering  along  be 
hind. 

Stewart,  looking  down  at  his  companion,  felt 
more  and  more  elated  over  the  adventure.  He  had 
never  passed  a  pleasanter  evening — it  had  just  the 


86         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

touch  of  excitement  needed  to  give  it  relish.  Un 
fortunately,  its  end  was  near;  an  hour  or  two  in  a 
crowded  railway  carriage,  and — that  was  all ! 

She  glanced  up  at  him  and  caught  his  eyes. 

"  What  is  it,  my  friend?  "  she  asked.  "  You  ap 
pear  sad." 

"  I  was  just  thinking,"  .answered  Stewart,  "  that 
I  do  not  even  know  your  name ! " 

"  Speak  lower !  "  she  said,  quickly.  "  Or,  better 
still,  do  not  say  such  things  at  all.  Do  not  drop  the 
mask  for  an  instant  until  we  are  out  of  Germany." 

"  Very  well,"  Stewart  promised.  "  But  once  we 
are  across  the  border,  I  warn  you  that  I  intend  to 
throw  the  mask  away,  and  that  I  shall  have  certain 
very  serious  things  to  say  to  you." 

"  And  I  promise  to  listen  patiently,"  she  answered, 
•miling. 

At  the  entrance  to  the  station,  they  were  stopped 
by  a  guard,  who  demanded  their  tickets.  Stewart 
was  about  to  produce  his,  when  his  companion 
touched  him  on  the  arm. 

"  Hasten  and  get  them,  Tommy,"  she  said.  "  I 
will  wait  here." 

And  Stewart,  as  he  hurried  away,  trembled  to 
think  how  nearly  he  had  blundered.  For  how  could 
he  have  explained  to  the  authorities  the  fact  that  he 


THE  SNARE  87 

was  traveling  with  a  book  of  Cook's  circular  tickets, 
while  his  wife  was  buying  her  tickets  from  station 
to  station? 

There  was  a  long  line  of  people  in  front  of  the 
,  ticket-office,  and  their  progress  was  slow,  for  two 
police  officers  stood  at  the  head  of  the  line  and 
interrogated  every  applicant  for  a  ticket  before  they 
would  permit  it  to  be  given  him.  Stewart,  as  he 
moved  slowly  forward,  saw  two  men  jerked  vio 
lently  out  of  the  line  and  placed  under  arrest;  he 
wondered  uncomfortably  if  the  officers  had  any 
instructions  with  regard  to  him,  but,  when  his  turn 
came,  he  faced  them  as  unconcernedly  as  he  was  able. 
He  explained  that  he  and  his  wife  were  going  to 
Brussels,  showed  his  passport,  and  finally  hastened 
away  triumphant  with  the  two  precious  bits  of 
pasteboard.  It  seemed  to  him  that  the  last  difficulty 
had  been  encountered  and  overcome,  and  it  was  only 
by  an  effort  that  he  kept  himself  from  waving  the 
tickets  in  the  air  as  he  rejoined  his  companion.  In 
another  moment,  they  were  past  the  barrier.  Hans 
was  permitted  to  enter  with  them,  and  mounted 
guard  over  the  luggage. 

The  platform  was  thronged  with  a  motley  and 
excited  crowd,  among  whom  were  many  officers  in 
long  gray  coats  and  trailing  swords,  evidently  on 


88          THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

their  way  to  join  their  commands.  They  were  stalk 
ing  up  and  down,  with  a  lofty  disregard  for  base 
civilians,  talking  loudly,  gesticulating  fiercely,  and 
stopping  ever  and  anon  to  shake  hands  solemnly. 
Stewart  was  watching  them  with  an  amusement 
somewhat  too  apparent,  for  his  companion  sud-  - 
denly  passed  her  arm  through  his. 

"  I  should  like  to  walk  a  little,"  she  said.  "  I  have 
been  sitting  too  long."  Then,  in  a  lower  tone,  as 
they  started  along  the  platform,  "  It  would  be  more 
wise  not  to  look  at  those  idiots.  They  would  seek 
a  quarrel  with  you  in  an  instant  if  they  suspected 
it  was  at  them  you  were  smiling." 

"  You  are  right,"  Stewart  agreed;  "  besides,  there 
is  someone  else  whom  I  think  much  better  worth 
looking  at !  The  officers  seem  to  share  my  opinion," 
he  added,  for  more  than  one  head  was  turned  as  they 
walked  slowly  down  the  platform.  "  I  shall  be 
jealous  in  a  moment !  " 

"  Do  not  talk  nonsense !  Nothing  is  so  absurd 
as  for  a  man  to  make  love  to  his  wife  in  pub 
lic!" 

Stewart  would  have  liked  to  retort  that  he  had,  as 
yet,  had  mighty  few  opportunities  in  private,  but  he 
judged  it  best  to  save  that  remark  for  the  other  side 
of  the  frontier 


THE  SNARE  89 

"Just  the  same,"  she  rattled  on,  "  it  was  good  of 
you  to  write  so  regularly  while  you  were  at  Vienna. 
I  am  sure  your  letters  helped  with  my  cure.  But 
you  have  not  told  me — have  you  secured  our  pas 


sage? 


"  I  will  know  when  we  get  to  Brussels.  Cook  is 
trying  to  get  us  an  outside  room  on  the  Adriatic/' 

"  Do  we  go  back  to  England  ?  " 

"  Not  unless  we  wish  to.  We  can  sail  from  Cher 
bourg." 

They  had  reached  the  end  of  the  platform,  and, 
as  they  turned,  Stewart  found  himself  face  to  face 
with  a  bearded  German  who  had  been  close  be 
hind  them,  and  who  shot  a  sharp  glance  at  him  and 
his  companion  before  stepping  aside  with  a  mut 
tered  apology.  Not  until  they  had  passed  him  did 
Stewart  remember  that  he  had  seen  the  man  before. 
It  was  the  surly  passenger  in  the  crowded  compart 
ment  on  the  journey  from  Cologne. 

His  companion  had  not  seemed  to  notice  the  fel 
low,  and  went  on  talking  of  the  voyage  home  and 
iiow  glad  she  would  be  to  get  there.  Not  until  they 
turned  again  at  the  farther  end,  and  found  the  plat 
form  for  a  moment  clear  around  them,  did  she 
relax  her  guard. 

"  That  man  is  a  spy,"  she  whispered,  quickly* 


90         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

"  We  are  evidently  still  suspected.     What  sort  of 
railroad  ticket  have  you?" 

"  A  book  of  Cook's  coupons." 

"  I  feared  as  much.    You  must  rid  yourself  of  it —  , 
it  is  quite  possible  that  you  will  be  searched  at  the, 
frontier.     No,  no,"  she  added,  as  Stewart  put  his 
hand  to  his  pocket.     "  Not  here !     You  would  be 
seen — everything  would  be  lost.     I  will  devise  a 
way." 

Stewart  reflected  with  satisfaction  that  only  a  few 
coupons  were  left  in  the  book.  But  why  should  he 
be  searched  ?  He  had  thought  the  danger  over ;  but 
he  began  uneasily  to  suspect  that  it  was  just  be 
ginning.  Well,  it  was  too  late  to  draw  back,  even 
had  he  wished  to  do  so;  and  most  emphatically  he 
did  not.  He  was  willing  to  risk  a  good  deal  for 
another  hour  of  this  companionship — and  then  there 
was  that  explanation  at  the  end — his  reward 

There  was  a  sharp  whistle  down  the  line,  and  the 
train  from  Cologne  rolled  slowly  in. 

"  First  class,"  said  Stewart  to  Hans,  as  the  latter 
picked  up  the  luggage;  and  then  he  realized  that 
they  would  be  fortunate  if  they  got  into  the  train  at 
all.  The  first  five  carriages  were  crowded  with  sol 
diers  ;  then  there  were  two  carriages  half-filled  with 
officers,  upon  whom  no  one  ventured  to  intrude. 


THE  SNARE  91 

The  three  rear  carriages  were  already  crowded  with 
a  motley  throng  of  excited  civilians,  and  Stewart 
had  resigned  himself  to  standing  up,  when  Hans 
shouted,  "  This  way,  sir;  this  way!  "  and  started  to 
run  as  fast  as  the  heavy  suit-cases  would  permit. 

Stewart,  staring  after  him,  saw  that  an  additional 
carriage  was  being  pushed  up  to  be  attached  to  the 
train. 

"  That  fellow  has  more  brains  than  I  gave  him 
credit  for,"  he  said.  "  Come  along !  " 

Before  the  car  had  stopped,  Hans,  with  a  disre 
gard  of  the  regulations  which  proved  how  excited  he 
was,  had  wrenched  open  the  door  of  the  first  com 
partment  and  clambered  aboard.  By  the  time  they 
reached  it,  he  had  the  luggage  in  the  rack  and  sprang 
.down  to  the  platform  with  a  smile  of  triumph. 

"  Good  work !  "  said  Stewart.  "  I  didn't  think 
you  had  it  in  you !  "  and  he  dropped  a  generous  tip 
into  the  waiting  hand.  "  Come,  my  dear,"  and  he 
helped  his  companion  aboard.  Hans  slammed  the 
door  shut  after  them,  touched  his  cap,  and  hurried 
away.  "  Well,  that  was  luck !  "  Stewart  added,  and 
dropped  to  the  seat  beside  his  companion.  "  But 
look  out  for  the  deluge  in  another  minute !  " 

She  was  looking  out  of  the  window  at  the  excited 
mob  sweeping  along  the  platform. 


$2          THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

"  The  crowd  is  not  coming  this  way,"  she  said, 
after  a  moment.  "  A  line  of  police  is  holding  it 
back.  I  think  this  carriage  is  intended  for  the 
officers." 

Stewart  groaned. 

"  Then  we  shall  have  to  get  out !  Take  my  advice 
and  don't  wait  to  be  asked  twice !  " 

"  Perhaps  they  will  not  need  this  corner.  In  any 
case,  we  will  stay  until  they  put  us  out.  If  you  are 
wise,  you  will  forget  all  the  German  you  know  and 
flourish  your  passport  frequently.  Germans  are  al 
ways  impressed  by  a  red  seal ! " 

But,  strangely  enough,  they  were  not  disturbed. 
A  number  of  officers  approached  the  carriage,  and, 
after  a  glance  at  its  inmates,  passed  on  to  the  other 
compartments.  Stewart,  putting  his  head  out  of  the 
window,  saw  that  the  line  of  police  were  still  keep 
ing  back  the  crowd. 

"  Really,"  he  said,  "  this  seems  too  good  to  be 
true.  It  looks  as  if  we  were  going  to  have  this 
compartment  to  ourselves." 

\  lie  turned  smilingly  to  glance  at  her,  and  the  smile 
remained  frozen  on  his  lips.  For  her  face  was 
deathly  pale,  her  eyes  were  staring,  and  she  was 
pressing  her  hands  tight  against  her  heart. 

"  You're  not  ill  ?  "  he  asked,  genuinely  startled. 


THE  SNARE  93 

"  Only  very  tired,"  she  answered,  controlling  her 
voice  with  evident  difficulty.  "  I  think  I  shall  try 
to  rest  a  little,"  and  she  settled  herself  more  com 
fortably  in  her  corner.  "  The  journey  from  Spa 
quite  exhausted  me."  Then  with  her  1ips  she  formed 
the  words  "Be  careful!" 

"  All  right,"  said  Stewart.  "  Go  to  sleep  if  you 
can." 

She  gave  him  a  warning  glance  from  under  half- 
closed  lids,  then  laid  her  head  back  against  the 
cushions  and  closed  her  eyes. 

Stewart,  after  a  last  look  along  the  platform, 
raised  the  window  half-way  to  protect  his  com 
panion  from  the  draft,  then  dropped  into  the  corner 
opposite  her  and  got  out  a  cigar  and  lighted  it  with 
studied  carelessness — though  he  was  disgusted  to  see 
that  his  hand  was  trembling.  He  was  tingling  all 
over  with  the  sudden  sense  of  danger — tingling  as 
a  soldier  tingles  as  he  awaits  the  command  to 
charge. 

But  what  danger  could  there  be?  And  then  he 
thrilled  at  a  sudden  thought.  Was  this  compartment 
intended  as  a  trap  ?  Had  they  been  guided  to  it  and 
left  alone  here  in  the  hope  that,  thrown  off  their 
guard,  they  would  in  some  way  incriminate  them 
selves  ?  Was  there  an  ear  glued  to  some  hole  in  the 


94          THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

partition — the  ear  of  a  spy  crouching  in  the  next 
compartment  ? 

Stewart  pulled  his  hat  forward  over  his  eyes  as 
though  to  shield  them  from  the  light.  Then  he 
went  carefully  back  over  the  sequence  of  events 
which  had  led  them  to  this  compartment.  It  was 
Hans  who  had  brought  them  to  it — and  Hans  was 
a  spy.  It  was  he  who  had  selected  it,  who  had  stood 
at  the  door  so  that  they  would  go  no  farther.  It 
was  he  who  had  slammed  the  door. 

Was  the  door  locked?  Stewart's  hand  itched  to 
try  the  handle ;  but  he  did  not  dare.  Someone  was 
perhaps  watching  as  well  as  listening.  But  that 
they  should  be  permitted  to  enter  a  carriage  reserved 
for  officers — that,  on  a  train  so  crowded,  they  should 
be  undisturbed  in  the  possession  of  a  whole  com 
partment — yes,  it  was  proof  enough ! 

The  station-master's  whistle  echoed  shrilly  along 
the  platform,  and  the  train  glided  slowly  away. 

Darkness  had  come,  and  as  the  train  threaded  the 
silent  environs  of  the  town,  Stewart  wondered  why 
the  streets  seemed  so  gloomy.  Looking  again,  he 
understood.  Only  a  few  of  the  street  lights  were 
burning.  Already  the  economies  of  war  had  begun. 

The  train  entered  a  long  tunnel,  at  whose  entrance 
a  file  of  soldiers  with  fixed  bayonets  stood  on  guard. 


THE  SNARE  95 

At  regular  intervals,  the  light  from  the  windows 
flashed  upon  an  armed  patrol.  Farther  on,  a  deep 
valley  was  spanned  by  a  great  viaduct,  and  here 
again  there  was  a  heavy  guard.  The  valley  widened, 
and  suddenly  as  they  swept  around  a  curve,  Stewart 
saw  a  broad  plain  covered  with  flaring  lights.  They 
were  the  lights  of  field-kitchens;  and,  looking  at 
them,  Stewart  realized  that  a  mighty  army  lay  en 
camped  here,  ready  to  be  hurled  against  the  French 
frontier. 

And  then  he  remembered  that  this  was  not  the 
French  frontier,  but  the  frontier  of  Belgium.  Could 
the  landlady  of  the  Kolner  Hof  have  been  mistaken? 
To  make  sure,  he  got  out  his  Baedeker  and  looked 
at  the  map.  No;  the  French  frontier  lay  away  to 
the  south.  There  was  no  way  to  reach  it  from 
this  point  save  across  Belgium.  It  was  at  Belgium, 
then,  that  the  first  blow  was  aimed — Belgium  whose 
neutrality  and  independence  had  been  guaranteed  by 
all  the  Powers  of  Europe ! 

He  put  the  book  away  and  sat  gazing  thought 
fully  out  into  the  night.  As  far  as  the  eye  could 
reach  gleamed  the  fires  of  the  mighty  bivouac.  The 
army  itself  was  invisible  in  the  darkness,  for  the 
men  had  not  thought  it  worth  while  to  put  up  their 
shelter  tents  on  so  fine  a  night ;  but  along  the  track, 


f6          THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

from  time  to  time,  passed  a  shadowy  patrol  ;  once, 
as  the  train  rolled  above  a  road,  Stewart  saw  that 
k  was  packed  with  transport  wagons. 

Then,  suddenly,  the  train  groaned  to  a  stop, 
i  "The  frontier!"  said  Stewart  to  himself,  and 
glanced  at  his  companion,  but  she,  to  all  appearance, 
was  sleeping  peacefully.  "  We  shall  be  delayed 
here,"  he  thought,  "  for  the  troops  to  detrain,"  and 
he  lowered  the  window  and  put  out  his  head  to 
watch  them  do  it. 

The  train  had  stopped  beside  a  platform,  and 
Stewart  was  astonished  at  its  length.  It  stretched 
away  and  away  into  the  distance,  seemingly  without 
end.  And  it  was  empty,  save  for  a  few  guards. 

The  doors  behind  him  were  thrown  open  and  the 
officers  sprang  out  and  hurried  forward.  From 
the  windows  in  front  of  him,  Stewart  could  see 
curious  heads  projecting;  but  the  forward  coaches 
'gave  no  sign  of  life.  Not  a  door  was  opened;  not  a 
soldier  appeared. 

"  Where  are  we  ?  What  has  happened  ?  "  asked 
his  companion's  voice,  and  he  turned  to  find  her 
rubbing  her  eyes  sleepily. 

"  We  are  at  the  frontier,  I  suppose,"  he  answered. 
"  No  doubt  we  shall  go  on  as  soon  as  the  troops 
detrain." 


THE  SNARE  97 

"  I  hope  they  will  not  be  long." 

"  They  haven't  started  yet,  but  of  course — by 
George !  "  he  added,  in  another  tone,  "  they  aren't 
getting  out !  The  guards  are  driving  the  people  out 
of  the  cars  ahead  of  us !  " 

The  tumult  of  voices  raised  in  angry  protest  drew 
nearer.  Stewart  could  see  that  the  carriages  were 
being  cleared,  and  in  no  gentle  manner.  There  was 
no  pause  for  explanation  or  argument — just  a  terse 
order  which,  if  not  instantly  obeyed,  was  followed 
by  action.  Stewart  could  not  help  smiling,  for,  in 
that  Babel  of  tongues,  he  distinguished  a  lot  of  un- 
expurgated  American! 

"  There's  no  use  getting  into  a  fight  with  them," 
he  said,  philosophically,  as  he  turned  back  into  the 
compartment  and  lifted  down  his  suit-cases.  "  We 
might  as  well  get  out  before  we're  put  out,"  and  he 
tried  to  open  the  door. 

It  was  locked. 

The  certainty  that  they  were  trapped  turned  him 
a  little  giddy. 

"  Who  the  devil  could  have  locked  this  door  ?  "  he 
demanded,  shaking  the  handle  savagely. 

"  Seat  yourself,  Tommy,"  his  companion  advised. 
"  Do  not  excite  yourself — and  have  your  passport 
ready.  Perhaps  they  will  not  put  us  off." 


98          THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

And  then  a  face,  crowned  by  the  ubiquitous  spiked 
helmet,  appeared  at  the  window. 

"  You  will  have  to  get  out,"  said  the  man  in  Ger 
man,  and  tried  to  open  the  door. 

Sttwart  shook  his  head  to  show  that  he  didn't 
understand,  and  produced  his  passport. 

The  man  waved  it  impatiently  away,  and  wrenched 
viciously  at  the  door,  purple  with  rage  at  finding  it 
locked.  Then  he  shouted  savagely  at  someone  far 
ther  up  the  platform. 

"  I  have  always  been  told  that  the  Germans  were 
a  phlegmatic  people,"  observed  Stewart ;  "  but  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  they  blow  up  quicker  and  harder  than 
anybody  I  ever  saw.  Look  at  that  fellow, 
now -" 

But  at  that  moment  a  guard  came  running  up, 
produced  a  key,  and  opened  the  door. 

"  Come,  get  out !  "  said  the  man,  with  a  gesture 
there  was.  no  mistaking,  and  Stewart,  picking  up  his 
bags,  stepped  out  upon  the  platform  and  helped  his 
companion  to  alight. 

"  How  long  will  we  be  detained  here?  "  he  asked 
in  English;  but  the  man,  with  a  contemptuous  shrug, 
motioned  him  to  stand  back. 

Looking  along  the  platform,  Stewart  saw  ap 
proaching  the  head  of  an  infantry  column.  In  a 


THE  SNARE  99 

moment,  the  soldiers  were  clambering  into  the 
coaches,  with  the  same  mathematical  precision  he 
had  seen  before.  But  there  was  something  unfa 
miliar  in  their  appearance ;  and,  looking  more  closely, 
Stewart  saw  that  their  spiked  helmets  were  covered 
with  gray  cloth,  and  that  not  a  button  or  bit  of 
gilt  glittered  anywhere  on  the  gray-green  field  uni 
forms.  Wonderful  forethought,  he  told  himself. 
By  night  these  troops  would  be  quite  invisible;  by 
day  they  would  be  merged  indistinguishably  with  the 
brown  soil  of  the  fields,  the  gray  trunks  of  trees, 
the  green  of  hedges. 

The  train  rolled  slowly  out  of  the  station,  and 
Stewart  saw  that  on  the  track  beyond  there  was  an 
other,  also  loaded  with  troops.  In  a  moment,  it 
started  westward  after  the  first;  and  beyond  it  a 
third  train  lay  revealed. 

Stewart,  glancing  at  his  companion,  was  startled 
by  the  whiteness  of  her  face,  the  steely  glitter  of  her 
eyes. 

"  It  looks  like  a  regular  invasion,"  he  said.  "  But 
;let  us  find  out  what's  going  to  happen  to  us.  We 
can't  stand  here  all  night.  Good  heavens — what  is 
that?" 

From  the  air  above  them  came  the  sudden  savage 
.whirr  of  a  powerful  engine,  and,  looking  up,  they 


ioo        THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

saw  a  giant  shape  sweep  across  the  sky.    It  was  gone 
in  an  instant. 

"  A  Zeppelin !  "  said  Stewart,  and  felt  within  him 
self  a  thrill  of  wonder  and  exultation.     Oh,  this  , 
would  be  a  great  war!     It  would  be  like  no  other, 
ever  seen  upon  this  earth.    It  would  be  fought  in  the 
air,  as  well  as  on  the  land ;  in  the  depths  of  the  ocean, 
as  well  as  on  its  surface.    At  last  all  theories  were 
to  be  put  to  the  supreme  test ! 

"  You  will  come  with  me,"  said  the  man  in  the 
helmet,  and  Stewart,  with  a  nod,  picked  up  his  grips 
again  before  he  remembered  that  he  was  supposed 
to  be  ignorant  of  German. 

"  Did  you  say  there  was  another  train?  "  he  asked. 
"  Shall  we  be  able  to  get  away  ?  " 

The  man  shook  his  head  and  led  the  way  along 
the  platform,  without  glancing  to  the  right  or  left. 
As  they  passed  the  bare  little  station,  they  saw  that 
it  was  jammed  to  the  doors  with  men  and  women 
and  children,  mixed  in  an  indiscriminate  mass,  and 
evidently  most  uncomfortable.  But  their  guide  led 
them  past  it  without  stopping,  and  Stewart  breathed 
a  sigh  of  relief.  Anything  would  be  better  than  to 
be  thrust  into  that  crowd ! 

Again  he  had  cause  to  wonder  at  the  length  of  that 
interminable  platform;  but  at  last,  near  its  farther 


THE  SNARE  101 

end,  their  guide  stopped  before  a  small,  square 
structure,  whose  use  Stewart  could  not  even  guess, 
and  flung  open  the  door. 

"  You  will  enter  here,"  he  said. 

"  But  look  here,"  Stewart  protested,  "  we  are 
American  citizens.  You  have  no  right " 

The  man  signed  to  them  to  hurry.  There  was 
something  in  the  gesture  which  stopped  the  words  on 
Stewart's  lips. 

"  Oh,  damn  the  fool ! "  he  growled,  swallowing 
hard.  "  Come  along,  my  dear ;  there's  no  use  to 
argue,"  and,  bending  his  head  at  the  low  door,  ke 
stepped  inside. 

In  an  instant,  the  door  was  slammed  shut,  and  th« 
snap  of  a  lock  told  them  that  they  were  prisoners. 


CHAPTER  VII 
IN  THE  TRAP 

As  Stewart  set  down  his  bags,  still  swearing  softly 
to  himself,  he  heard  behind  him  the  sound  of  a 
stifled  sob. 

"There!  there!"  he  said.  "We'll  soon  be  all 
right !  "  and  as  he  turned  swiftly  and  reached  out  his 
arms  to  grope  for  her,  it  seemed  to  him  that  she 
walked  right  into  them. 

"  Oh,  oh !  "  she  moaned,  and  pressed  close  against 
him.  "  What  will  they  do  to  us  ?  Why  have  they 
placed  us  here  ?  "  And  then  he  felt  her  lips  against 
his  ear.  "  Be  careful !  "  she  whispered  in  the  merest 
breath.  '  There  is  an  open  window !  " 

Stewart's  heart  was  thrilling.  What  a  woman! 
What  an  actress!  Well,  he  would  prove  that  he, 
too,  could  play  a  part. 

'  They  will  do  nothing  to  us,  dear,"  he  answered, 
patting  her  shoulder.  "  They  will  not  dare  to  harm 
us !  Remember,  we  are  Americans !  " 

"  But — but  why  should  they  place  us  here?  " 

102 


IN  THE  TRAP  103 

"  I  don't  know — I  suppose  they  have  to  be  careful. 
I'll  appeal  to  our  ambassador  in  the  morning.  He'll 
soon  bring  them  to  their  senses.  So  don't  worry !  " 

"  But  it  is  so  dark !  "  she  complained.  "  And  I  am 
so  tired.  Can  we  not  seat  ourselves  somewhere?'' 

"  We  can  sit  on  our  bags,"  said  Stewart. 
"  Wait !  "  In  a  moment  he  had  found  them  and 
placed  them  one  upon  the  other.  "  There  you  are. 
Now  let  us  see  what  sort  of  a  place  we've  come 
to." 

He  got  out  his  match-box  and  struck  a  light.  The 
first  flare  almost  blinded  him;  then,  holding  the 
match  above  his  head,  he  saw  they  were  in  a  brick 
cubicle,  about  twenty  feet  square.  There  was  a 
single  small  window,  without  glass  but  heavily 
barred.  The  place  was  empty,  save  for  a  pile  of 
barrels  against  one  end. 

"  It's  a  store-house  of  some  kind,"  he  said,  and 
then  he  sniffed  sharply.  "  Gasoline !  I'd  better  not 
strike  any  more  matches." 

He  sat  down  beside  her  and  for  some  moments 
they  were  silent.  Almost  unconsciously,  his  arm 
found  its  way  about  her  waist.  She  did  not  draw 
away. 

"  Do  you  suppose  they  will  keep  us  here  all 
night?"  she  asked,  at  last. 


104         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

"  Heaven  knows !  They  seem  capable  of  any 
folly!" 

And  then  again  he  felt  her  lips  against  his  ear. 

"We  must  destroy  your  ticket,"   she  breathed.; 
"  Can  you  find  it  in  the  dark?  " 

"  I  think  so."  He  fumbled  in  an  inside  pocket  and 
drew  it  out.  "  Here  it  is." 

Her  groping  hand  found  his  and  took  the  ticket. 

"  Now  talk  to  me,"  she  said. 

Stewart  talked  at  random,  wondering  how  she 
intended  to  destroy  the  ticket.  Once  he  fancied  he 
heard  the  sound  of  soft  tearing;  and  once,  when  she 
spoke  in  answer  to  a  question,  her  voice  seemed 
strange  and  muffled. 

"  It  is  done,"  she  whispered  at  last.  "  Place  these 
in  your  pocket  and  continue  talking." 

Her  groping  hand  touched  his  and  he  found  him 
self  grasping  two  minute  objects  whose  nature  he 
could  not  guess,  until,  feeling  them  carefully,  he 
found  them  to  be  the  small  wire  staples  which  had 
keld  the  coupons  of  the  ticket  together.  He  slipped 
them  into  his  waistcoat  pocket;  and  then,  as  he  be 
gan  to  tell  her  about  the  women  from  Philadelphia 
and  the  journey  from  Cologne,  he  was  conscious  that 
she  was  no  longer  beside  him.  But  at  the  end  of  a 
moment  she  was  back  again. 


IN  THE  TRAP  105 

"  That  girl  was  perfectly  right,"  she  said. 
"  Women  are  very  silly  to  try  to  travel  about  Eu 
rope  without  a  man  as  escort.  Consider  how  I 
should  feel  at  this  moment  if  I  did  not  have 


But  in  spite  of  themselves,  the  conversation 
lagged;  and  they  finally  sat  silent. 

How  strange  a  thing  was  chance,  Stewart  pon 
dered.  Here  was  he  who,  until  to-day,  had  seen  his 
life  stretching  before  him  ordered  and  prosaic, 
cast  suddenly  into  the  midst  of  strange  adventure. 
Here  was  this  girl,  whom  he  had  known  for  only 
a  few  hours  and  yet  seemed  to  have  known  for  years 
—  whom  he  certainly  knew  better  than  he  had  ever 
known  any  other  woman  There  was  Bloem  —  he 
had  been  cast  into  adventure,  too.  Was  he  outside 
somewhere,  among  all  those  thousands,  gazing  up 
at  the  stars  and  wondering  at  Fate  ?  And  the  thou 
sands  themselves  —  the  millions  mustering  at  this 
moment  into  the  armies  of  Europe  —  to  what  tragic 
adventure  were  they  being  hurried! 

A  quick  step  came  along  the  platform  and  stopped 
at  the  door;  there  was  the  snap  of  a  lock,  and  the 
door  swung  open. 

"  You  will  come  out,"  said  a  voice  in  English. 

Against  the  lights  of  the  station,  Stewart  saw  out- 


io6         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

lined  the  figure  of  a  man  in  uniform.  He  rose 
wearily. 

"  Come,  dear,"  he  said,  and  helped  her  to  her 
feet ;  "  it  seems  we  are  to  go  somewhere  else."  Then 
he  looked  down  at  the  heavy  bags.  "  I  can't  carry 
those  things  all  over  creation,"  he  said;  "  what's 
more,  I  won't." 

"  I  will  attend  to  that,"  said  the  stranger,  and 
put  a  whistle  to  his  lips  and  blew  a  shrill  blast. 
Two  men  came  running  up.  "  You  will  take  those 
bags,"  he  ordered.  "  Follow  me,"  he  added  to 
Stewart. 

They  followed  him  along  the  platform,  crossed 
the  track  to  another,  and  came  at  last  to  a  great 
empty  shed  with  a  low  table  running  along  one  side. 
The  men  placed  the  bags  upon  this  table  and  with 
drew. 

"  I  shall  have  to  search  them,"  said  the  officer. 
"Are  they  locked?" 

He  stood  in  the  glare  of  a  lamp  hanging  from 
the  rafters,  and  for  the  first  time,  Stewart  saw  his 
face.  The  man  smiled  at  his  start  of  surprise. 

"  I  see  you  recognize  me,"  he  said.  "  Yes — I  was 
in  your  compartment  coming  from  Cologne.  We 
will  speak  of  that  later.  Are  your  bags  locked?  " 

"  No,"  said  Stewart. 


IN  THE  TRAP  107 

He  watched  with  affected  listlessness  as  the  officer 
undid  the  straps  and  raised  the  lids.  But  his  mind 
was  very  busy.  Had  he  said  anything  during  that 
ride  from  Cologne  which  he  would  now  have  reason 
to  regret?  Had  he  intimated  that  he  was  unmar 
ried  ?  He  struggled  to  recall  the  conversation,  sen 
tence  by  sentence,  but  could  remember  nothing  that 
was  actually  incriminating.  And  yet,  in  mentioning 
his  intended  stop  at  Aix-la-Chapelle,  he  had  not 
added  that  he  was  to  meet  his  wife  there,  and  he  had 
made  a  tentative  arrangement  to  see  Miss  Field 
again  in  Brussels.  The  talk,  in  other  words,  had 
been  carried  on  from  the  angle  of  a  bachelor  with 
no  one  to  think  of  but  himself,  and  not  from  that 
of  a  married  man  with  a  wife  to  consider. 

It  was  certainly  unfortunate  that  the  man  who  had 
happened  to  overhear  that  conversation  should  be 
the  one  detailed  here  to  examine  his  luggage.  How 
well  did  he  know  English  ?  Was  he  acute  enough  to 
catch  the  implications  of  the  conversation,  or  would 
a  disregard  of  one's  wife  seem  natural  to  his  Teu 
tonic  mind?  Stewart  glanced  at  him  covertly;  and 
then  his  attention  was  suddenly  caught  and  held  by 
the  extreme  care  with  which  the  man  examined  the 
contents  of  the  bags. 

He  shook  out  each  garment,  put  his  hand  in  every 


loS         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

pocket,  examined  the  linings  with  his  finger-tips, 
ripped  open  one  where  he  detected  some  unusual 
thickness  only  to  discover  a  strip  of  reinforcement, 
opened  and  read  carefully  every  letter  and  paper, 
turned  the  Baedeker  page  by  page  to  be  sure  that 
nothing  lay  between  them.  He  paused  over  the  satin 
shoes  and  stockings,  but  put  them  down  finally  with 
out  comment.  At  last  the  bags  were  empty,  and,  tak 
ing  up  his  knife,  he  proceeded  to  rip  open  the  linen 
linings  and  look  under  them.  Then,  with  equal  care, 
he  returned  each  article  to  its  place,  examining  it  a 
second  time  with  the  same  intent  scrutiny. 

All  this  took  time,  and  long  before  it  was  over, 
Stewart  and  his  companion  had  dropped  upon  a 
bench  which  ran  along  the  wall  opposite  the  table. 
Stewart  was  so  weary  that  he  began  to  feel  that 
nothing  mattered  very  much,  and  he  could  see  that 
the  girl  also  was  deadly  tired.  But  at  last  the  search 
was  finished  and  the  bags  closed  and  strapped. 

"  I  should  like  to  see  the  small  bag  which  Madame 
carries  on  her  arm,"  said  the  officer,  and,  without 
a  word,  the  girl  held  it  out  to  him. 

He  examined  its  contents  with  a  minuteness  al 
most  microscopic.  Nothing  was  too  small,  too  unim 
portant,  to  escape  the  closest  attention.  Stewart, 
marveling  at  this  exhibition  of  German  thorough- 


IN  THE  TRAP  109 

ness,  watched  him  through  half-closed  eyes,  his  heart 
beating  a  little  faster.  Would  he  find  some  clew, 
some  evidence  of  treachery? 

There  were  some  handkerchiefs  in  the  bag,  and 
some  small  toilet  articles;  a  cake  of  soap  in  a  case, 
a  box  of  powder,  a  small  purse  containing  some  gold 
and  silver,  a  post-card,  two  or  three  letters,  and 
some  trivial  odds  and  ends  such  as  every  woman 
carries  about  with  her.  The  searcher  unfolded  each 
of  the  handkerchiefs  and  held  it  against  the  light, 
he  cut  the  cake  of  soap  into  minute  fragments;  he 
emptied  the  box  of  powder  and  ran  an  inquiring 
finger  through  its  contents ;  he  turned  out  the  purse 
and  looked  at  every  coin  it  contained;  then  he  sat 
down  and  read  slowly  and  gravely  the  postcard  and 
each  of  the  letters  and  examined  their  postmarks, 
and  finally  he  took  one  of  the  closely- written  sheets, 
mounted  on  his  chair,  and  held  the  sheet  close  against 
the  chimney  of  the  lamp  until  it  was  smoking  with 
the  heat,  examining  it  with  minute  attention  as 
though  he  rather  expected  to  make  some  interesting 
discovery.  As  a  finish  to  his  researches,  he  ripped 
open  the  lining  of  the  bag  and  turned  it  inside 
out. 

"Where  did  you  buy  this  bag,  madame?"  he 
asked. 


no         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

"  In  Paris,  a  month  ago." 

"  These  handkerchiefs  are  also  French." 

"  Certainly.  French  handkerchiefs  are  the  best 
in  the  world." 

He  compressed  his  lips  and  looked  at  her. 

"  And  that  is  a  French  hat,"  he  went  on. 

"  Good  heavens !  "  cried  the  girl.  "  One  would 
think  I  was  passing  the  customs  at  New  York.  Cer 
tainly  it  is  French.  So  is  my  gown — so  are  my 
stockings — so  is  my  underwear.  For  what  else  does 
an  American  woman  come  abroad  ?  " 

He  looked  at  her  shoes.  She  saw  his  glance  and 
understood  it. 

"  No ;  my  shoes  are  American.  The  French  do 
not  know  how  to  make  shoes." 

"  But  the  slippers  are  French." 

"Which  slippers?" 

"  The  ones  in  your  husband's  bag." 

She  turned  laughingly  to  Stewart 

"  Have  you  been  carrying  a  pair  of  my  slippers 
all  around  Europe,  Tommy?"  she  asked.  "How 
did  that  happen?" 

"  I  don't  know.  I  packed  in  rather  a  hurry," 
answered  Stewart,  sheepishly. 

"  Where  is  the  remainder  of  your  baggage, 
madame  ?  "  asked  the  officer. 


IN  THE  TRAP  in 

"  At  Brussels — at  least,  I  hope  so.  I  sent  it  there 
direct  from  Spa." 

"Why  did  you  do  that?" 

"  In  order  to  avoid  the  examination  at  the 
frontier." 

"  Why  did  not  you  yourself  go  direct  to  Brus 
sels?" 

"  I  wished  to  see  my  husband.  I  had  not  seen  him 
for  almost  a  month,"  and  she  cast  Stewart  a  fond 
smile. 

"Have  you  been  recently  married?" 

"  We  have  been  married  four  years,"  the  girl  in 
formed  him,  with  dignity. 

Stewart  started  to  give  some  additional  infor 
mation  about  the  family,  but  restrained  him 
self. 

The  inspector  looked  at  them  both  keenly  for  a 
moment,  scratching  his  bearded  chin  reflectively. 
Then  he  took  a  rapid  turn  up  and  down  the  shed,  his 
brow  furrowed  in  thought. 

"  I  shall  have  to  ask  you  both  to  disrobe,"  he  said, 
at  last,  and  as  Stewart  started  to  his  feet  in  hot 
protest,  he  added,  quickly,  <:  I  have  a  woman  who 
will  disrobe  Madame." 

"  But  this  is  an  outrage !  "  protested  Stewart,  his 
face  crimson.  "  This  lady  is  my  wife — I  won't 


ii2         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

stand  by  and  see  her  insulted.  I  warn  you  that  you 
are  making  a  serious  mistake." 

"  She  shall  not  be  insulted.  Besides,  it  is  neces 
sary." 

"  I  don't  see  it." 

"  That  is  for  me  to  decide,"  said  the  other  bluntly, 
and  he  put  his  whistle  to  his  lips  and  blew  two  blasts. 

A  door  at  the  farther  end  of  the  shed  opened  and 
a  woman  entered.  She  was  a  matronly  creature  with 
a  kind  face,  and  she  smiled  encouragingly  at  the 
shrinking  girl. 

"  Fran  Ritter,"  said  the  officer  in  German,  "  you 
will  take  this  lady  into  the  office  and  disrobe  her. 
Bring  her  clothing  to  me  here — all  of  it." 

Again  Stewart  started  to  protest,  but  the  officer 
silenced  him  with  a  gesture. 

"  It  is  useless  to  attempt  resistance,"  he  said, 
sharply.  "  I  must  do  my  duty — by  force  if  neces 
sary.  It  will  be  much  wiser  to  obey  quietly." 

The  girl  rose  to  her  feet,  evidently  reassured  by 
the  benevolent  appearance  of  the  woman. 

"  Do  not  worry,  Tommy,"  she  said.  "  It  will  be 
all  right.  It  is  of  no  use  to  argue  with  these  people. 
There  is  nothing  to  do  but  submit." 

"  So  it  seems,"  Stewart  muttered,  and  watched 
her  until  she  disappeared  through  the  door. 


IN  THE  TRAP  113 

"  Now,  sir,"  said  the  officer,  sharply,  "  your 
clothes." 

Crimson  with  anger  and  humiliation,  Stewart 
handed  them  over  piece  by  piece,  saw  pockets  turned 
out,  linings  loosened  here  and  there,  the  heels  of  his 
shoes  examined,  his  fountain-pen  unscrewed  and 
emptied  of  its  ink.  At  last  he  stood  naked  under  the 
flaring  light,  feeling  helpless  as  a  baby. 

"  Well,  I  hope  you  are  satisfied,"  he  said,  vin 
dictively. 

With  a  curt  nod,  the  officer  handed  him  back  his 
underwear. 

"  I  will  keep  these  for  the  moment,"  he  said,  indi 
cating  the  little  pile  of  things  taken  from  the  pockets. 
"  You  may  dress.  Your  clothes,  at  least,  are  Ameri 
can!" 

As  he  spoke,  the  woman  entered  from  the  far 
ther  door,  with  a  bundle  of  clothing  in  her  arms. 
Stewart  turned  hastily  away,  struggling  into  his 
trousers  as  rapidly  as  he  could,  and  cursing  the 
careless  immodesty  of  these  people.  Sullenly  he 
laced  his  shoes,  and  put  on  his  collar,  noting  wrath- 
fully  that  it  was  soiled.  He  kept  his  back  to  the  man 
at  the  table — he  felt  that  it  would  be  indecent  to 
watch  him  scrutinizing  those  intimate  articles  of 
apparel. 


ii4         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

"You  have  examined  her  hair?"  he  heard  the 
man  ask. 

"  Yes,  Excellency." 

"  Very  well;  you  may  take  these  back." 

Not  until  he  heard  the  door  close  behind  her  did 
Stewart  turn  around.  The  officer  was  lighting  a 
cigarette.  The  careless  unconcern  of  the  act  added 
new  fuel  to  the  American's  wrath. 

"  Perhaps  you  will  tell  me  the  meaning  of  all 
this?  "  he  demanded.  "  Why  should  my  wife  and  I 
be  compelled  to  submit  to  these  indignities  ?  " 

"  We  are  looking  for  a  spy,"  replied  the  other 
imperturbably,  and  addressed  himself  to  an  ex 
amination  of  the  things  he  had  taken  from  Stewart's 
pockets — his  penknife,  his  watch,  the  contents  of 
his  purse,  the  papers  in  his  pocket-book.  He  even 
placed  a  meditative  finger  for  an  instant  on  the  two 
tiny  metal  clips  which  had  come  from  the  Cook 
ticket.  But  to  reconstruct  their  use  was  evidently 
too  great  a  task  even  for  a  German  police  agent,  for 
he  passed  on  almost  at  once  to  something  else. 
"  Very  good,"  he  said  at  last,  pushed  the  pile  toward 
its  owner,  and  opened  the  passport,  which  he  had  laid 
to  one  side. 

"  That  passport  will  tell  you  that  I  am  not  a  spy," 
said  Stewart,  putting  his  things  angrily  back  into  his 


IN  THE  TRAP  115 

pockets.  "  That,  it  seems  to  me,  should  be  suffi 
cient." 

"  As  far  as  you  are  concerned,  it  is  entirely  suffi 
cient,"  said  the  other.  "  One  can  see  at  a  glance 
that  you  are  an  American.  But  the  appearance  of 
Madame  is  distinctly  French." 

"  Americans  are  of  every  race,"  Stewart  pointed 
out.  "  I  have  seen  many  who  look  far  more  Ger 
man  than  you  do." 

"  That  is  true ;  but  it  so  happens  that  the  spy  we 
are  looking  for  is  a  woman.  I  cannot  tell  you  more, 
except  that  it  is  imperative  she  does  not  escape." 

"  And  you  suspect  my  wife?  "  Stewart  demanded. 
"  But  that  is  absurd !  " 

He  was  proud  of  the  fact  that  he  had  managed 
to  maintain  unaltered  his  expression  of  virtuous 
indignation,  for  a  sudden  chill  had  run  down  his 
spine  at  the  other's  careless  words.  Evidently  the 
situation  was  far  more  dangerous  than  he  had  sus 
pected  !  Then  he  was  conscious  that  his  hands  were 
trembling  slightly,  and  thrust  them  quickly  into  his 
pockets. 

"  The  fact  that  she  joined  you  at  Aachen  seemed 
most  suspicious,"  the  inspector  pointed  out.  "  I  do 
not  remember  that  you  mentioned  her  during  your 
conversation  with  the  ladies  in  the  train." 


n6        THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

"  Certainly  not.  Why  should  I  have  mentioned 
her?" 

"  There  was  perhaps  no  reason  for  doing  so,"  the 
inspector  admitted.  "  Nevertheless,  it  seemed  to  us 
unusual  that  she  should  have  come  back  from  Spa  to 
Aachen  to  meet  you,  when  she  might,  so  much  more 
conveniently,  have  gone  direct  to  Brussels  and 
awaited  you  there." 

"  She  has  explained  why  we  made  that  arrange 
ment." 

"  Yes,"  and  through  half-closed  eyes  he  watched 
the  smoke  from  his  cigarette  circle  upwards  toward 
the  lamp.  "  Conjugal  affection — most  admirable,  I 
am  sure!  It  is  unfortunate  that  Madame's  appear 
ance  should  answer  so  closely  to  that  of  the  woman 
for  whom  we  are  searching.  It  was  also  unfortunate 
that  you  should  have  met  at  the  Kolner  Hof.  That 
hotel  has  not  a  good  reputation — it  is  frequented  by 
too  many  French  whose  business  is  not  quite  clear 
to  us.  How  did  it  happen  that  you  went  there  ?  " 

"Why,"  retorted  Stewart  hotly,  glad  of  the 
chance  to  return  one  of  the  many  blows  which  had 
been  rained  upon  him,  "  one  of  your  own  men 
recommended  it." 

"One  of  my  own  men?  I  do  not  understand," 
and  the  officer  looked  at  him  curiously. 


IN  THE  TRAP  117 

"  At  least  one  of  the  police.  He  came  to  me  at  the 
Hotel  Continental  at  Cologne  to  examine  my  pass 
port.  He  asked  me  where  I  was  going  from  Cologne, 
and  I  told  him  to  Aix-la-Chapelle.  He  asked  at 
which  hotel  I  was  going  to  stay,  and  I  said  I  did 
not  know.  He  said  he  would  like  to  have  that  in 
formation  for  his  report,  and  added  that  the  Kolner 
Hof  was  near  the  station  and  very  clean  and  com 
fortable.  I  certainly  found  it  so." 

The  officer  was  listening  with  peculiar  intentness. 

"  Why  were  you  not  at  the  station  to  meet  your 
wife?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  did  not  know  when  she  would  arrive ;  I  was 
told  that  the  trains  were  all  running  irregularly," 
answered  Stewart,  prouder  of  his  ability  to  lie  well 
and  quickly  than  he  had  ever  been  of  anything  else 
in  his  life. 

"  But  how  did  she  know  at  which  hotel  to  find 
,you  ?  "  inquired  the  officer,  and  negligently  flipped 
the  ash  from  his  cigarette. 

Stewart  distinctly  felt  his  heart  turn  over  as  he 
saw  the  abyss  at  his  feet.  How  would  she  have 
known  ?  How  could  she  have  known  ?  What  would 
he  have  done  if  he  had  really  had  a  wife  waiting  at 
Spa  ?  These  questions  flashed  through  his  head  like 
lightning. 


2i8         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

"  Why,  I  telegraphed  her,  of  course,"  he  said ; 
"  and  to  make  assurance  doubly  sure,  I  sent  her  a 
postcard."  And  then  his  heart  fell  again,  for  he 
realized  that  the  police  had  only  to  wire  to  Cologne 
to  prove  that  no  such  message  had  been  filed  there. 

But  the  officer  tossed  away  his  cigarette  with  a 
little  gesture  of  satisfaction. 

"  It  was  well  you  took  the  latter  precaution,  Mr. 
Stewart,"  he  said,  and  Stewart  detected  a  subtle 
change  in  his  tone — it  was  less  cold,  more  friendly. 
"  The  wires  were  closed  last  night  to  any  but  official 
business,  and  your  message  could  not  possibly  have 
got  through.  I  am  surprised  that  it  was  accepted." 

"  I  gave  it  to  the  porter  at  the  hotel,"  Stewart  ex 
plained.  "  Perhaps  it  wasn't  accepted,  and  he  just 
kept  the  money." 

"  That  may  be.  But  your  postcard  got  through, 
as  you  no  doubt  know.  It  evidently  caught  the  night 
mail  and  was  delivered  to  Madame  this  morning." 

"  Really,"  stammered  Stewart,  wondering  desper 
ately  if  this  was  another  trap,  "  I  didn't  know — I 
didn't  think  to  ask " 

"Luckily  Madame  brought  it  with  her  in  her 
hand-bag,"  explained  the  other.  "  It  offers  a 
convincing  confirmation  of  your  story — the  more 
convincing  perhaps  since  you  seem  surprised  that 


IN  THE  TRAP  119 

she  preserved  it.  Ah,  here  she  is  now,"  and  he 
arose  as  the  door  opened  and  the  girl  came  in. 
"  Will  you  not  sit  down,  madame  ?  "  he  went  on, 
courteously.  "  I  pray  that  both  of  you  will  accept 
my  sincere  apologies  for  the  inconvenience  I  have 
caused  you.  Believe  me,  it  was  one  of  war's  neces 
sities." 

The  girl  glanced  at  the  speaker  curiously,  his  tone 
was  so  warm,  so  full  of  friendship ;  then  she  glanced 
at  Stewart 

And  Stewart,  catching  that  glance,  was  suddenly 
conscious  that  his  mouth  was  open  and  his  eyes  star 
ing  and  his  whole  attitude  that  of  a  man  struck 
dumb  by  astonishment.  Hastily  he  bent  over  to  re- 
tie  a  shoestring.  But  really,  he  told  himself,  he 
could  not  be  blamed  for  being  disconcerted — any 
body  would  be  disconcerted  to  be  told  suddenly  that 
his  most  desperate  lie  was  true!  But  how  could  it 
be  true?  How  could  there  be  any  such  postcard  as 
the  German  had  described?  Was  it  just  another 
trap? 

"  We  understand,  of  course,  that  you  were  merely 
doing  your  duty,"  the  girl's  voice  was  saying;  "  what 
seemed  unfair  was  that  we  should  be  the  victims. 
Do  I  understand  that — that  you  no  longer  suspect 
us?" 


120         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

"  Absolutely  not ;  and  I  apologize  for  my  sus 
picions." 

"Then  we  are  at  liberty  to  proceed?" 

"  You  cannot  in  any  event  proceed  to-night.  I 
will  pass  you  in  the  morning.  And  I  hope  you  will 
not  think  that  any  discourtesy  was  intended  to  you 
as  Americans.  Germany  is  most  anxious  to  retain 
the  good-will  of  America.  It  will  mean  much  to  us 
in  this  struggle." 

"  Most  Americans  are  rather  sentimental  over 
Alsace-Lorraine,"  said  Stewart,  who  had  recovered 
his  composure,  and  he  fished  for  a  cigar  and  offered 
one  to  the  officer,  who  accepted  it  with  a  bow  of 
thanks. 

"  That  is  because  they  do  not  understand,"  said  the 
other,  quickly.  "  Alsace  and  Lorraine  belong  of 
right  to  Germany.  Of  that  there  can  be  no  ques 
tion." 

"  But  haven't  you  been  rather  harsh  with  them  ?  " 

"  We  have  not  been  harsh  enough.  Had  we  done 
our  duty,  we  would  have  stamped  out  without 
mercy  the  treason  which  is  still  rampant  in  many 
parts  of  those  provinces.  Instead,  we  have  hesi 
tated,  we  have  temporized — and  now,  too  late,  we 
realize  our  mistake.  The  spy  for  whom  we  are 
searching  at  this  moment  comes  from  Strassburg." 


IN  THE  TRAP  121 

Stevart  started  at  the  words;  but  the  girl 
threw  back  her  head  and  burst  into  delighted 
laughter. 

"  So  you  took  us  for  spies!  "  she  cried.  "  What 
a  tale  to  tell,  Tommy,  when  we  get  home !  " 

"  There  is  but  one  spy,  madame,"  said  the  officer; 
"  a  woman  young  and  beautiful  like  yourself — ac 
complished,  distinguished,  a  great  linguist,  a  fine 
musician,  of  good  family,  and  moving  in  the  high 
est  society  in  Alsace.  She  was  on  terms  of  intimacy 
with  many  of  our  officers;  they  did  not  hesitate  to 
talk  freely  to  her.  Some  of  them,  fascinated  by 
her  wit  and  beauty  and  wishing  to  prove  their  own 
importance,  told  her  things  which  they  had  no  right 
to  tell.  More  than  that,  at  the  last  moment  she  suc 
ceeded  in  getting  possession  for  a  time  of  certain 
confidential  documents.  But  she  had  gone  too  far — 
she  was  suspected — she  fled — and  she  has  not  yet 
been  captured.  But  she  cannot  escape — we  can 
not  permit  her  to  escape.  We  know  that  she  is  .still 
somewhere  in  Germany,  and  we  have  made  it  im 
possible  for  her  to  pass  the  frontier.  A  person  who 
knows  her  is  to  be  stationed  at  every  post,  and  no 
woman  will  be  permitted  to  pass  until  he  has  seen 
her.  The  man  to  be  stationed  here  will  arrive  from 
Strassburg  in  an  hour.  As  a  final  precaution, 


122        THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

madame,"  he  added,  smiling,  "  and  because  my  or 
ders  are  most  precise  and  stringent,  I  shall  ask  you 
and  your  husband  to  remain  here  at  Herbesthal  until 
morning.  As  I  have  said,  you  could  not,  in  any 
event,  go  on  to-night,  for  the  frontier  is  closed.  In 
the  morning,  I  will  ask  my  man  from  Strassburg  to 
look  at  you,  and  will  then  provide  you  with  a  safe- 
conduct,  and  see  that  every  possible  facility  is  given 
you  to  get  safely  across  the  frontier." 

"  Thank  you,"  she  said ;  "  you  are  most  kind. 
That  is  why  you  are  keeping  all  those  people  shut  up 
in  the  station?  " 

"  Yes,  madame.  They  cannot  pass  until  my  man 
has  seen  them." 

"  But  you  are  not  searching  them?  " 

"  No;  with  most  of  them,  the  detention  is  a  mere 
matter  of  obeying  orders — one  can  tell  their  na 
tionality  at  a  glance.     But  to  look  at  you,  madame,, 
I  should  never  have  supposed  you  to  be  an  American  \ 
— I  should  have  supposed  you  to  be  French." 

"  My  grandmother  was  French,"  explained  the 
girl,  composedly,  "  and  I  am  said  to  resemble  her 
very  closely.  I  must  also  warn  you  that  my  sym 
pathies  are  French." 

The  officer  shrugged  his  shoulders  with  a  smile. 

"  That  is  a  great  misfortune.    Perhaps  when  you 


IN  THE  TRAP  .123 

see  how  our  army  fights,  we  may  claim  some  of  your 
sympathy — or,  at  least,  your  admiration." 

"It  will  fight  well,  then?" 

"  It  will  fight  so  well — it  will  prove  so  irresist 
ible — that  our  General  Staff  has  been  able  to  pre 
pare  in  advance  the  schedule  for  the  entire  cam 
paign.  This  is  the  first  of  August.  On  the  fifth  we 
shall  capture  Lille,  on  the  ninth  we  shall  cross  the 
Marne,  and  on  the  eleventh  we  shall  enter  Paris. 
On  the  evening  of  the  twelfth,  the  Emperor  will  dine 
the  General  Staff  at  the  Ritz." 

Stewart  stared  in  astonishment,  not  knowing 
whether  to  laugh  or  to  be  impressed.  But  there  was 
no  shadow  of  a  smile  on  the  bearded  face  of  the 
speaker. 

"  You  are  not  in  earnest !  "  Stewart  protested. 

"  Thoroughly  in  earnest.  We  know  where  we 
shall  be  at  every  hour  of  every  day.  There  are  at 
present  living  in  France  many  Germans  who  are 
reservists  in  our  army.  Not  one  of  these  has  been 
required  to  return  to  Germany.  On  the  contrary, 
each  of  them  has  been  instructed  to  report  at  a  point 
near  his  place  of  residence  at  a  certain  hour  of  a 
certain  day,  where  he  will  find  his  regiment  await 
ing  him.  For  example,  all  German  reservists  living 
at  Lille,  or  in  the  neighborhood,  will  report  at  noon 


i24        THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

of  Wednesday  next  in  the  Place  de  la  Republique  in 
front  of  the  prefecture,  where  the  German  adminis 
tration  will  have  been  installed  during  the  morning." 

Stewart  opened  his  lips  to  say  something,  but  no 
.words  came.  He  felt  intimidated  and  overborne. 

But  it  was  not  at  Stewart  the  officer  was  looking 
so  triumphantly,  it  was  at  the  girl.  Perhaps  he  also, 
yielding  to  a  subtle  fascination,  was  telling  things  he 
had  no  right  to  tell  in  order  to  prove  his  impor 
tance  ! 

The  girl  returned  his  gaze  with  a  look  of  aston 
ishment  and  admiration. 

"  How  wonderful !  "  she  breathed.  "  And  it  is 
really  true  ?  " 

"  True  in  every  detail,  madame." 

"  But  this  Lille  of  which  you  have  spoken — is  it 
a  fortress  ?  " 

"  A  great  fortress,  madame." 

"Will  it  not  resist?" 

"  Not  for  long — perhaps  not  at  all.  If  it  does  re 
sist,  it  will  fall  like  a  house  of  cards.  The  whole 
world  will  be  astonished,  madame,  when  it  learns 
the  details  of  that  action.  We  have  a  great  surprise 
in  store  for  our  enemies !  " 

Stewart,  glancing  at  his  companion,  noted  with 
alarm  the  flash  of  excitement  in  her  eyes.  Would 


IN  THE  TRAP  125 

she  push  her  questioning  too  far — would  she  be  in 
discreet;  but  the  next  instant  he  was  reassured. 

"  It  is  most  fascinating, — this  puzzle ! "  she 
laughed.  "  I  shall  watch  the  papers  for  the  fall  of 
Lille.  But  I  am  very  ignorant — I  do  not  even  know 
where  Lille  is." 

"  It  is  in  the  northwest  corner  of  France,  ma- 
dame,  just  south  of  the  Belgian  frontier." 

The  girl  looked  at  him  perplexedly. 

"  But  how  can  you  reach  it,"  she  asked,  slowly, 
"  without  crossing  Belgium?  " 

"  We  cannot  reach  it  without  crossing  Belgium." 

From  the  expression  of  her  face,  she  might  have 
been  a  child  shyly  interrogating  an  indulgent  senior. 

"  I  know  I  am  stupid,"  she  faltered,  "  but  it  seems 
to  me  I  have  read  somewhere — perhaps  in  Baedeker 
— that  all  the  Powers  had  agreed  that  Belgium 
should  always  be  a  neutral  country." 

"  So  they  did — Germany  as  well  as  the  others. 
But  such  agreements  are  mere  scraps  of  paper. 
The  first  blast  of  war  blows  them  away.  France 
has  built  along  her  eastern  border  a  great  chain  of/ 
forts  which  are  almost  impregnable.  Therefore  it 
is  necessary  for  us  to  strike  her  from  the  north 
through  Belgium.  Regretfully,  but  none  the  less 
firmly,  we  have  warned  Belgium  to  stand  aside." 


126         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

"Will  she  stand  aside?" 

The  officer  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  She  must,  or  risk  annihilation.  She  will  not 
dare  oppose  us.  If  she  does,  we  shall  crush  her  into 
the  dust.  She  will  belong  to  us,  and  we  will  take 
her.  Moreover,  we  shall  not  repeat  the  mistake  we 
made  in  Alsace-Lorraine.  There  will  be  no  treason 
in  Belgium !  " 

Stewart  felt  a  little  shiver  of  disgust  sweep  over 
him.  So  this  was  the  German  attitude — treaties, 
solemn  agreements,  these  were  merely  "  scraps  of 
paper"  not  worth  a  second  thought;  a  small  nation 
had  no  rights  worth  considering,  since  it  lacked  the 
power  to  defend  them.  Should  it  try  to  do  so,  it 
would  "  risk  annihilation !  " 

He  did  not  feel  that  he  could  trust  himself  to  talk 
any  longer,  and  rose  suddenly  to  his  feet. 

"  What  are  we  going  to  do  to-night?  "  he  asked. 
"  Not  sit  here  in  this  shed,  surely !  " 

"  Certainly  not,"  and  the  officer  rose  too.  "  I 
have  secured  a  lodging  for  you  with  the  woman  who 
searched  Madame.  You  will  find  it  clean  and  com 
fortable,  though  by  no  means  luxurious." 

"  That  is  very  kind  of  you,"  said  Stewart,  with 
a  memory  of  the  rabble  he  had  seen  crowded  into  the 
waiting-room.  And  then  he  looked  at  his  luggage. 


IN  THE  TRAP  ,127 

"  I  hope  it  isn't  far,"  he  added.    "  I've  carried  those 
bags  about  a  thousand  miles  to-day." 

"  It  is  but  a  step — but  I  will  have  a  man  carry 
your  bags.     Here  is  your  passport,  sir,  and  again 
permit  me  to  assure  you  of  my  regret.     You  alsoj 
madame !  "  and  he  bowed  ceremoniously  above  her 
fingers. 

Three  minutes  later,  Stewart  and  his  companion 
were  walking  down  the  platform  beside  the  pleasant- 
faced  woman,  who  babbled  away  amiably  in  Ger 
man,  while  a  porter  followed  with  the  bags.  As 
they  passed  the  station,  they  could  see  that  it  was  still 
jammed  with  a  motley  crowd,  while  a  guard  of  sol 
diers  thrown  around  it  prevented  anyone  leaving  or 
entering. 

"  How  fortunate  that  we  have  escaped  that !  "  said 
Stewart.  "  Even  at  the  price  of  being  searched !  " 

"  This  way,  sir,"  said  the  woman,  in  German,  and 
motioned  off  into  the  darkness  to  the  right. 

They  made  their  way  across  a  net-work  of  tracks, 
which  seemed  to  Stewart  strangely  complicated  and 
extensive  for  a  small  frontier  station,  and  then 
emerged  into  a  narrow,  crooked  street,  bordered  by 
mean  little  houses.  In  front  of  one  of  these  the 
woman  stopped  and  unlocked  the  door  with  an  enor 
mous  key.  The  porter  set  the  bags  inside,  received 


148         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

his  tip^  and  withdrew,  while  their  hostess  struck  a 
match  and  lighted  a  candle,  disclosing  a  narrow  hall 
running  from  the  front  door  back  through  the  house. 

*  You  will  sleep  here,  sir,"  she  said,  and  opened 
i  a  door  to  the  left. 

,  They  stepped  through,  in  obedience  to  her  gesture, 
and  found  themselves  in  a  fair-sized  room,  poorly 
furnished  and  a  little  musty  from  disuse,  but  evi 
dently  clean.  Their  hostess  hastened  to  open  the 
window  and  to  light  another  candle.  Then  she 
brought  in  Stewart's  bags. 

"  You  will  find  water  there,"  and  she  pointed  to 
the  pitcher  on  the  wash-stand.  "  I  cannot  give  you 
hot  water  to-night — there  is  no  fire.  Will  these 
towels  be  sufficient  ?  Yes  ?  Is  there  anything  else  ? 
No?  Then  good-night,  sir,  and  you  also,  my 
lady." 

"  Good-night,"  they  answered;  and  for  a  moment 
after  the  door  closed,  stood  staring  at  it  as  though 
/lypnotized. 

Then  the  girl  stepped  to  the  window  and  pulled 
together  the  curtains  of  white  cotton.  As  she 
turned  back  into  the  room,  Stewart  saw  that  her 
face  was  livid. 

His  eyes  asked  the  question  which  he  did  not  dare 
speak  aloud. 


IN  THE  TRAP  129 

She  drew  him  back  into  the  corner  and  put  her 
lips  close  against  his  ear. 

"  There  is  a  guard  outside,"  she  whispered.  "  We 
must  be  very  careful.  We  are  prisoners  still." 

As  Stewart  stood  staring,  she  took  off  her  hat  and 
tossed  it  on  a  chair.  \ 

"  How  tired  I  am !  "  she  said,  yawning  heavily, 
and  turning  back  to  the  window,  she  began  to  take 
down  her  hair. 


CHAPTER  VIII 
PRESTO!    CHANGE! 

THE  vision  of  that  dark  hair  rippling  down  as  she 
drew  out  pin  after  pin  held  Stewart  entranced.  And 
the  curve  of  her  uplifted  arms  was  also  a  thing  to  be 
remembered !  But  what  was  it  she  proposed  to  do  ? 
Surely • 

"If  you  are  going  to  wash,  you  would  better  do  it, 
Tommy,"  she  said,  calmly.  "  I  shall  be  wanting  to 
in  a  minute." 

Mechanically,  Stewart  slipped  out  of  his  coat, 
undid  his  tie,  took  off  his  collar,  pulled  up  his  sleeves, 
and  fell  to.  He  was  obsessed  by  a  feeling  of  un 
reality  which  even  the  cold  water  did  not  dissipate. 
It  couldn't  be  true — all  this 

"  I  wish  you  would  hurry,  Tommy,"  said  a  voice 
behind  him.  "  I  am  waiting  for  you  to  unhook  my 
bodice." 

Stewart  started  round  as  though  stung  by  an 
adder.  His  companion's  hair  fell  in  beautiful  dark 
waves  about  her  shoulders,  and  he  could  see  that  her 

bodice  was  loosened. 

130 


PRESTO!    CHANGE  I  131 

"  There  are  two  hooks  I  cannot  reach,"  she  ex 
plained,  in  the  most  matter-of-fact  tone.  "  I  should 
think  you  would  know  that  by  this  time!" 

"  Oh,  so  it's  that  bodice !  "  said  Stewart,  and  dried 
his  hands  vigorously,  resolved  to  play  the  game  to 
the  end,  whatever  it  might  be.  "  All  right,"  and  as 
she  turned  her  back  toward  him,  he  began  gingerly 
searching  for  the  hooks. 

"  Come  a  little  this  way,"  she  said ;  "  you  can  see 
better,"  and,  glancing  up,  Stewart  suddenly  under 
stood. 

They  were  standing  so  that  their  shadows  fell 
upon  the  curtain.  The  comedy  was  being  played  for 
the  benefit  of  the  guard  in  the  street  outside. 

The  discovery  that  it  was  a  comedy  gave  him  back 
all  his  aplomb,  and  he  found  the  hooks  and  disen 
gaged  them  with  a  dexterity  which  no  real  husband 
could  have  improved  upon. 

"There,"  he  said;  "though  why  any  woman 
should  wear  a  gown  so  fashioned  that  she  can  neither 
dress  nor  undress  herself  passes  my  comprehension. 
Why  not  put  the  hooks  in  front  ?  " 

"  And  spoil  the  effect  ?  Impossible !  The  hooks 
must  be  in  the  back,"  and  still  standing  before  the 
window,  she  slowly  drew  her  bodice  off. 

Stewart  had  seen  the  arms  of  many  women,  but 


132         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

never  a  pair  so  rounded  and  graceful  and  beautiful 
as  those  at  this  moment  disclosed  to  him.  Ad 
mirable  too  was  the  way  in  which  the  head  was 
set  upon  the  lovely  neck,  and  the  way  the  neck 
itself  merged  into  the  shoulders — the  masterpiece 
of  a  great  artist,  so  he  told  himself. 

"  I  wonder  if  there  is  a  shutter  to  that  window?  " 
she  asked,  suddenly,  starting  round  toward  it.  "  If 
there  is,  you  would  better  close  it.  Somebody  might 
pass — besides,  I  do  not  care  to  sleep  on  the  ground- 
floor  of  a  strange  house  in  a  strange  town,  with  an 
open  window  overlooking  the  street !  " 

"  I'll  see,"  said  Stewart,  and  pulling  back  the  cur 
tains,  stuck  out  his  head.  "  Yes — there's  a  shutter — 
a  heavy  wooden  one."  He  pulled  it  shut  and  pushed 
its  bolt  into  place.  "  There;  now  you're  safe!  " 

She  motioned  him  quickly  to  lower  the  window, 
and  this  he  did  as  noiselessly  as  possible. 

"  Was  there  anyone  outside?  "  she  asked,  in  a  low 
tone. 

He  shook  his  head.  The  narrow  street  upon 
which  the  window  opened  had  seemed  quite  deserted 
— but  the  shadows  were  very  deep. 

"  I  wish  you  would  open  the  bags,"  she  said,  in  her 
natural  voice.  "  I  shall  have  to  improvise  a  night 
dress  of  some  sort." 


PRESTO!    CHANGE!  133 

Although  he  knew  quite  well  that  the  words  had 
been  uttered  for  foreign  consumption,  as  it  were, 
Stewart  found  that  his  fingers  were  trembling  as  he 
undid  the  straps  and  threw  back  the  lids,  for  he  was 
quite  unable  to  guess  what  would  be  the  end  of  this 
strange  adventure  or  to  what  desperate  straits  they 
might  be  driven  by  the  pressure  of  circumstance. 

"  There  you  are,"  he  said,  and  sat  down  and 
watched  her. 

She  knelt  on  the  floor  beside  the  bags  and  turned 
over  their  contents  thoughtfully,  laying  to  one  side 
a  soft  outing  shirt,  a  traveling  cap,  a  lounging  coat, 
a  pipe  and  pouch  of  tobacco,  a  handful  of  cigars,  a 
pair  of  trousers,  a  belt,  three  handkerchiefs,  a  pair 
of  scissors.  She  paused  for  a  long  time  over  a  pair 
of  Stewart's  shoes,  but  finally  put  them  back  with  a 
shake  of  the  head. 

"  No,"  said  Stewart,  "  I  agree  with  you.  Shoes 
are  not  necessary  to  a  sleeping  costume.  But  then 
neither  is  a  pipe." 

She  laughed. 

"  You  will  find  that  the  pipe  is  very  necessary," 
she  said,  and  rising  briskly,  stepped  to  the  wash- 
stand  and  gave  face  and  hands  and  arms  a  scrubbing 
so  vigorous  that  she  emerged,  as  it  seemed  to  Stew 
art,  more  radiant  than  ever.  Then  she  glanced  into 


134         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

the  pitcher  with  an  exclamation  of  dismay.  '  There ! 
I  have  used  all  the  water!  I  wonder  if  our  land 
lady  has  gone  to  bed?" 

Catching  up  the  pitcher,  she  crossed  rapidly  to 
the  door  and  opened  it.  There  was  no  one  there, 
and  Stewart,  following  with  the  candle,  saw  that 
the  hall  was  empty.  They  stood  for  a  moment 
listening,  but  not  a  sound  disturbed  the  stillness  of 
the  house. 

The  girl  motioned  him  back  into  the  room  and 
closed  the  door  softly.  Then,  replacing  the  pitcher 
gently,  she  caught  up  a  pile  of  Stewart's  socks  and 
stuffed  them  tightly  under  the  door.  Finally  she  set  a 
chair  snugly  against  it — for  there  was  no  lock — and 
turned  to  Stewart  with  a  little  sigh  of  relief. 

"  There,"  she  said  in  a  low  tone ;  "  no  one  can 
see  our  light  nor  overhear  us,  if  we  are  careful. 
Perhaps  they  really  do  not  suspect  us — -but  we  musi 
take  no  chances.  What  hour  have  you  ?  " 

Stewart  glanced  at  his  watch. 

"  It  is  almost  midnight." 

"  There  is  no  time  to  lose.  We  must  make  our 
plans.  Sit  here  beside  me,"  and  she  sat  down  in 
one  corner  against  the  wall.  "  We  must  not  waste 
our  candle,"  she  added.  "  Bring  it  with  you,  and  we 
will  blow  it  out  until  we  need  it  again." 


PRESTO!    CHANGE!  135 

Stewart  sat  down  beside  her,  placed  the  candle  on 
the  floor  and  leaned  forward  and  blew  it  out. 

For  a  moment  they  sat  so,  quite  still,  then  Stewart 
felt  a  hand  touch  his.  He  seized  it  and  held  it 
•  dose. 

"  I  am  very  unhappy,  my  friend,"  she  said,  softly, 
"  to  have  involved  you  in  all  this." 

"  Why,  I  am  having  the  time  of  my  life !  "  Stewart 
protested. 

"  If  I  had  foreseen  what  was  to  happen,"  she  went 
on,  "  I  should  never  have  asked  you  to  assist  me.  I 
would  have  found  some  other  way." 

"  The  deuce  you  would !  Then  I'm  glad  you  didn't 
foresee  it." 

"  It  is  good  of  you  to  say  so ;  but  you  must  not  in 
volve  yourself  further." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?  " 

"  I  am  in  great  danger.  It  is  absolutely  neces 
sary  that  I  escape.  I  cannot  remain  till  morning. 
I  cannot  face  that  inspection.  I  should  be  de 
nounced." 

"  Yes,"  agreed  Stewart;  "  that's  clear  enough." 

"  Well,  I  will  escape  alone.  When  the  police  come 
for  us,  they  will  find  only  you." 

"  And  will  probably  back  me  against  a  wall  and 
shoot  me  out  of  hand." 


136        THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

"  Oh,  no ;  they  will  be  rough  and  angry,  but  they 
will  not  dare  to  harm  you.  They  know  that  you 
are  an  American — they  cannot  possibly  suspect  you 
of  being  a  spy.  You  can  prove  the  truth  of  all  your 
statements." 

"  Not  quite  all,"  Stewart  corrected. 

"  Of  your  statements,  at  least,  so  far  as  they  con 
cern  yourself." 

"  Yes — but  I  will  have  considerable  difficulty  ex 
plaining  my  connection  with  you." 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  the  girl,  in  a  low  voice ;  "  that  can 
be  easily  explained." 

"How?" 

"  You  will  say,"  she  answered,  her  voice  lower 
still,  "  that  you  met  me  at  the  Kolner  Hof,  that  I 
made  advances,  that  you  found  me  attractive, 
and  that  I  readily  agreed  to  accompany  you 
to  Paris.  You  can  say  that  it  was  I  who  sug 
gested  altering  your  passport — that  you  saw 
no  harm  in  it — and  that  you  knew  absolutely 
nothing  about  me  except  that  I  was  a — a  loose 
woman." 

Stewart's  lips  were  trembling  so  that  it  was  a 
moment  before  he  could  control  his  voice. 

"  And  do  you  really  think  I  would  say  that,  little 
comrade?"  he  asked,  hoarsely.  "Do  you  really 


PRESTO!    CHANGE!  137 

think  anything  on  earth  could  compel  «ae  to  say 
that!" 

He  heard  the  quick  intake  of  her  breath;  then  she 
raised  his  hand  to  her  cheek  and  he  felt  the  hot  tears 
upon  it. 

i  "  Don't  you  understand,"  he  went  on  earnestly, 
"  that  we  are  in  this  together  to  the  end — the  very 
end  ?  I  know  I'm  not  of  much  use,  but  I  am  not  such 
a  coward  as  you  seem  to  think  me,  and " 

She  stopped  him  with  a  quick  pressure  of  the 
fingers. 

"  Don't !  "  she  breathed.    "  You  are  cruel !  " 

"  Not  half  so  cruel  as  you  were  a  moment  ago," 
he  retorted. 

"  Forgive  me,  my  friend,"  she  pleaded,  and  moved 
a  little  nearer.  "  I  did  not  know — I  am  but  a  girl — 
I  thought  perhaps  you  would  wish  to  be  rid  of 
me." 

"  I  don't  want  ever  to  be  rid  of  you,"  began  Stew 
art,  brokenly,  drawing  her  closer.  "  I  don't  want 
ever " 

She  yielded  for  an  instant  to  his  arm;  for  the 
fraction  of  an  instant  her  head  was  upon  his  breast ; 
then  she  drew  herself  away,  and  silenced  him  with  a 
tap  upon  the  lips. 

"  Not  now ! "  she  said,  and  her  roice,  too,  was 


1 38         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

hoarse.  "  All  we  must  think  of  now  is  to  escape. 
Afterwards,  perhaps " 

"  I  shall  hold  you  to  that !  "  said  Stewart,  and  re 
leased  her. 

But  again  for  an  instant  she  bent  close. 

"  You  are  a  good  man !  "  she  whispered. 

"  Oh,  no ! "  Stewart  protested,  though  he  was 
shaken  by  the  words.  "  No  better  than  the  aver 
age!" 

And  then  he  suddenly  found  himself  unable  to  go 
on,  and  there  was  a  moment's  silence.  When  he 
spoke  again,  he  had  regained  his  self-control. 

"  Have  you  a  plan?  "  he  asked. 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  and  drew  a  quick  breath,  as  of 
one  shaking  away  some  weakness.  "  The  first  part  is 
that  you  should  sit  quite  still  until  I  tell  you  to 
light  the  candle." 

"  But  what " 

"  A  good  soldier  does  not  ask  questions." 

"  All  right,  general,"  said  Stewart,  and  settled 
back  against  the  wall,  completely,  ineffably  happy. 
Never  before,  he  told  himself,  had  he  known  what 
happiness  was;  never  before  had  the  mere  joy  of 
living  surged  through  his  veins  as  it  was  doing  now. 
Little  comrade!  But  what  was  she  doing? 

He  could  hear  her  moving  softly  about  the  room; 


PRESTO!    CHANGE!  139 

he  could  hear  the  rustle  of  what  he  took  to  be  the 
bed-clothes;  then  the  bed  creaked  as  she  sat  down 
upon  it.  What  was  she  doing?  Why  should  she 
work  in  the  dark,  alone,  without  asking  him  to 
help?  \Vas  it  because  he  could  not  help — was  of 
so  little  use 

"  You  may  light  the  candle  now,  my  friend,"  she 
said,  in  a  low  voice. 

Stewart  had  a  match  ready — had  had  it  ready  for 
long  minutes ! — and  in  a  trice  the  wick  was  alight 
and  the  flame  shot  up  clear  and  steady. 

After  one  glance,  he  sprang  in  amazement  to  his 
feet,  for  there  before  him  stood  a  youth — the  hand 
somest  he  had  ever  seen — Peter  Pan  come  to  earth 
again! — his  hand  at  the  visor  of  his  traveling-cap 
in  mock  salute. 

"  Well !  "  said  Stewart,  after  a  moment  of  amazed 
and  delighted  silence.  "  I  believe  you  are  a  witch ! 
Let  me  look  at  you !  "  and  he  caught  up  the  candle 
and  held  it  above  his  head. 

The  face  upturned  to  his  flamed  crimson  at  the 
wonder  and  admiration  in  his  eyes,  but  the  dimple 
was  sparkling  at  the  corner  of  her  mouth  as  she 
turned  obediently  before  him  and  stepped  slowly 
across  the  room.  There  is  at  the  heart  of  every 
woman,  however  virginal  and  innocent,  a  subtle  de- 


THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

light  in  knowing  that  men  find  her  beautiful,  and 
there  could  be  no  question  of  what  Stewart  thought 
at  this  moment. 

At  last  she  came  to  a  stop  facing  him. 
.     "  Well  ?  "  she  asked.    "  Will  I  do  ?  " 
'     *' Will  you  do?"  Stewart  echoed,  and  Meredith's 
phrase  recurred  to  him — "  an  imp  in  porcelain  " — 
how  perfectly  it  described  her !    "  You  are  entirely, 
absolutely,    impeccably — oh,    I    haven't    adjectives 
enough!    Only  I  wish  I  had  a  hundred  candles  in 
stead  of  one ! " 

"  But  the  clothes,"  she  said,  and  looked  doubt 
fully  down  at  them.  "  Do  I  look  like  a  boy?  " 

"  Not  in  the  least ! "  he  answered,  promptly. 

Her  face  fell. 

"  But  then " 

"  Perhaps  it  is  just  because  I  know  you're  not 
one,"  he  reassured  her.  "  Let  me  see  if  I  can  improve 
matters.  The  trousers  are  too  large,  especially 
about  the  waist.  They  seem  in  danger  of — hum!  " 
and  indeed  she  was  clutching  them  desperately  with 
one  hand.  "  We  will  make  another  hole  in  that 
belt  about  three  inches  back,"  and  he  got  out  his 
knife  and  suited  the  action  to  the  word.  "  There — 
that's  better — you  can  let  go  of  them  now!  And 
we'll  turn  up  the  legs  about  four  inches — no,  we'd 


PRESTO!    CHANGE!  141 

better  cut  them  off."  He  set  the  candle  on  the 
floor,  picked  up  the  scissors,  and  carefully  trimmed 
each  leg.  "  But  those  feet  are  ridiculous,"  he  added, 
severely.  "  No  real  boy  ever  had  feet  like  that !  " 

She  stared  down  at  them  ruefully. 

"  They  will  seem  larger  when  I  get  them  full 
of  mud,"  she  pointed  out.  "  I  thought  of  putting 
on  a  pair  of  your  shoes,  but  gave  it  up,  for  I  am 
afraid  I  could  not  travel  very  far  in  them.  For 
tunately  these  are  very  strong !  " 

He  sniffed  skeptically,  but  had  to  agree  with  her 
that  his  shoes  were  impossible. 

"  There  is  one  thing  more,"  and  she  lifted  her 
cap  and  let  her  tucked-up  hair  fall  about  her  shoul 
ders.  "  This  must  be  cut  off." 

"  Oh,  no,"  protested  Stewart,  drawing  back  in 
horror.  "  That  would  be  desecration — why,  it's 
the  most  beautiful  hair  in  the  world ! " 

"  Nonsense !    In  any  case,  it  will  grow  again." 

"  Why  not  just  tie  it  up  under  your  cap?  " 

But  she  shook  her  head. 

"  No — it  must  come  off.  I  might  lose  the  cap — 
you  see  it  is  too  large — and  my  hair  would  betray 
us.  Cut  it  off,  my  friend — be  quick." 

She  was  right,  of  course,  and  Stewart,  with  a 
heavy  heart,  snipped  away  the  long  tresses.  Then 


142         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

he  trimmed  the  hair  as  well  as  he  was  able — which 
was  very  badly  indeed.  Finally  he  parted  it  rak- 
ishly  on  one  side — and  only  by  a  supreme  effort 
restrained  himself  from  taking  her  in  his  arms  and 
kissing  her. 

"  Really,"  he  said,  "  you're  so  ridiculously  lovely 
that  I'm  in  great  danger  of  violating  our  treaty.  I 
warn  you  it  is  extremely  dangerous  to  look  at  me 
like  that!" 

She  lowered  her  eyes  instantly,  but  she  could  not 
restrain  the  dimple.  Luckily,  in  the  shadow,  Stew 
art  did  not  see  it. 

"  We  must  make  my  clothing  into  a  bundle,"  she 
said,  sedately.  "  I  may  need  it  again.  Besides, 
these  people  must  not  suspect  that  I  have  gone 
away  disguised  like  this.  That  will  give  us  a  great 
advantage.  Yes,  gather  up  the  hair  and  we 
will  take  it  too — it  would  betray  us.  Put  the 
cigars  in  your  pocket.  I  will  take  the  pipe  and 
tobacco." 

"  Do  you  expect  to  smoke  ?  I  warn  you  that  that 
pipe  is  a  seasoned  one !  " 

"  I  may  risk  a  puff  or  two.  I  have  been  told  there 
is  no  passport  like  a  pipe  of  tobacco.  No — do  not 
shut  the  bags.  Leave  them  open  as  though  we  had 
fled  hurriedly.  And,"  she  added,  crimsoning  a  little, 


PRESTO!    CHANGE!  143 

"I  think  it  would  be  well  to  disarrange  the 
bed." 

Stewart  flung  back  the  covers  and  rolled  upon  it, 
while  his  companion  cast  a  last  look  about  the  room. 
Then  she  picked  up  her  little  bag  and  took  out  the 
purse  and  the  two  letters. 

"  Which  pocket  of  a  man's  clothes  is  safest  ?  "  she 
asked. 

"  The  inside  coat  pocket.  There  are  two  inside 
pockets  in  the  coat  you  have  on.  One  of  them  has 
a  flap  which  buttons  down.  Nothing  could  get  out 
of  it." 

She  took  the  coins  from  the  purse,  dropped  them 
into  the  pocket,  and  replaced  the  purse  in  the  bag. 
Then  she  started  to  place  the  letters  in  the  pocket, 
but  hesitated,  looking  at  him  searchingly,  her  lips 
compressed. 

"  My  friend,"  she  said,  coming  suddenly  close  to 
him  and  speaking  in  the  merest  breath,  "  I  am  going 
to  trust  you  with  a  great  secret.  The  information 
I  carry  is  in  these  letters — apparently  so  innocent. 
If  anything  should  happen  to  me " 

"  Nothing  is  going  to  happen  to  you,"  broke  in 
Stewart,  roughly.  "  That  is  what  I  am  for !  " 

"  I  know — and  yet  something  may.  If  anything 
should,  promise  me  that  you  will  take  these  letters 


144        THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

from  my  pocket,  and  by  every  means  in  your  power, 
seek  to  place  them  in  the  hands  of  General  Joffre." 

"General  Joffre?"  repeated  Stewart.     "Who  is 
he?" 
I     "  He  is  the  French  commander-in-chief." 

"  But  what  chance  would  I  have  of  reaching  him? 
I  should  merely  be  laughed  at  if  I  asked  to  see  him !  " 

"  Not  if  you  asked  in  the  right  way,"  and  again 
she  hesitated.  Then  she  pressed  still  closer. 
"  Listen — I  have  no  right  to  tell  you  what  I  am 
about  to  tell  you,  and  yet  I  must.  Do  you  remember 
at  Aix,  I  looked  at  you  like  this?  "  and  she  caught 
her  lower  lip  for  an  instant  between  the  thumb  and 
little  finger  of  her  left  hand. 

.  "  Yes,  I  remember ;  and  you  burst  into  tears  im 
mediately  afterward." 

"  That  was  because  you  did  not  understand.  If, 
in  answer,  you  had  passed  your  left  hand  across  your 
eyes,  I  should  have  said,  in  French,  '  Have  we  not 
met  before? '  and  if  you  had  replied,  '  In  Berlin,  on 
the  twenty-second,'  I  should  have  known  that  you 
were  one  of  ours.  Those  passwords  will  take  you 
to  General  Joffre  himself." 

"  Let  us  repeat  them,"  Stewart  suggested.  In  a 
moment  he  knew  them  thoroughly.  "  And  that's  all 
right !  "  he  said. 


PRESTO!    CHANGE!  145 

"You  consent,  then?"  she  asked,  eagerly. 

"  To  assist  you  in  every  way  possible — yes." 

"  To  leave  me,  if  I  am  not  able  to  go  on ;  to  take 
the  letters  and  press  on  alone,"  she  insisted,  her  eyes 
shining.  "  Promise  me,  my  friend !  "  ( 

"  I  shall  have  to  be  governed  by  circumstances,"' 
said  Stewart,  cautiously.  "  If  that  seems  the  best 
thing  to  do — why,  I'll  do  it,  of  course.  But  I  warn 
you  that  this  enterprise  would  soon  go  to  pieces  if  it 
had  no  better  wits  than  mine  back  of  it.  Why,  in  the 
few  minutes  they  were  searching  you  back  there  at 
the  station,  I  walked  straight  into  a  trap — and  with 
my  eyes  wide  open,  too — at  the  very  moment  when 
I  was  proudly  thinking  what  a  clever  fellow  I 
was ! " 

"  What  was  the  trap  ?  "  she  asked,  quickly. 

"  I  was  talking  to  that  officer,  and  babbled  out  the 
story  of  how  I  came  to  go  to  the  Kolner  Hof,  and 
he  seemed  surprised  that  a  member  of  the  police 
should  have  recommended  it — which  seems  strange 
to  me,  too,"  he  added,  "  now  that  I  think  of  it. 
Then  he  asked  me  suddenly  how  you  knew  I  was/ 
there." 

"  Yes,  yes ;  and  what  did  you  say  ?  " 

"  I  didn't  say  anything  for  a  minute — I  felt  as 
though  I  were  falling  out  of  a  airship.  But  after 


146        THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

I  had  fallen  about  a  mile,  I  managed  to  say  that  I 
had  sent  you  a  telegram  and  also  a  postcard." 

"  How  lucky !  "  breathed  the  girl.  "  How  shrewd 
of  you!" 

"  Shrewd  ?  Was  it  ?  But  that  shock  was  nothing 
to  the  jolt  I  got  the  next  minute  when  he  told  me 
that  you  had  brought  the  postcard  along  in  your 
bag!  It  was  a  good  thing  you  came  in  just  then, 
or  he  would  have  seen  by  the  way  I  sat  there  gaping 
at  him  that  the  whole  story  was  a  lie !  " 

"  I  should  have  told  you  of  the  postcard,"  she  said, 
with  a  gesture  of  annoyance.  "  It  is  often  just  some 
such  tiny  oversight  which  wrecks  a  whole  plan.  One 
tries  to  foresee  everything — to  provide  for  every 
thing — and  then  some  little,  little  detail  goes  wrong, 
and  the  whole  structure  comes  tumbling  down.  It 
was  chance  that  saved  us — but  in  affairs  of  this  sort, 
nothing  must  be  left  to  chance!  If  we  had  failed,  it 
would  have  been  my  fault !  " 

"  But  how  could  there  have  been  a  postcard  ?  "  de 
manded  Stewart.  "  I  should  like  to  see  it." 

Smiling,  yet  with  a  certain  look  of  anxiety,  she 
stepped  to  her  bag,  took  out  the  postcard,  and 
handed  it  to  him.  On  one  side  was  a  picture  of  the 
cathedral  at  Cologne;  on  the  other,  the  address  and 
the  message : 


PRESTO!    CHANGE!  147 

Cologne,  July  31,    1914. 
Dear  Mary — 

Do  not  forget  that  it  is  to-morrow,  Saturday,  you 
are  to  meet  me  at  Aix-la-Chapelle,  from  where  we 
will  go  on  to  Brussels  together,  as  we  have  planned. 
If  I  should  fail  to  meet  you  at  the  train,  you  will  find 
me  at  a  hotel  called  the  Kolner  Hof,  not  far  from 
the  station. 

With   much   love, 

BRADFORD  STEWART. 

Stewart  read  this  remarkable  message  with  aston 
ished  eyes,  then,  holding  the  card  close  to  the  candle, 
he  stared  at  it  in  bewilderment. 

"  But  it  is  my  handwriting!  "  he  protested.  "  At 
least,  a  fairly  good  imitation  of  it — and  the  signa 
ture  is  mine  to  a  dot." 

"  Your  signature  was  all  the  writer  had,"  she 
explained.  "  Your  handwriting  had  to  be  inferred 
from  that." 

"  Where  did  you  get  my  signature  ?  Oh,  from 
the  blank  I  filled  up  at  Aix,  I  suppose.  But  no," 
and  he  looked  at  the  card  again,  "  the  postmark 
shows  that  it  was  mailed  at  Cologne  last  night." 

"  The  postmark  is  a  fabrication." 

"  Then  it  was  from  the  blank  at  Aix?  " 

"  No,"  she  said,  and  hesitated,  an  anxiety  in  her 
face  he  did  not  understand. 

"Then  where  did  you  get  it?"  he  persisted. 
"  Why  shouldn't  you  tell  me  ?  " 


148         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

"  I  will  tell  you,"  she  answered,  but  her  voice  was 
almost  inaudible.  "  It  is  right  that  you  should 
know.  You  gave  the  signature  to  the  man  who 
examined  your  passport  on  the  terrace  of  the  Hotel 
Continental  at  Cologne,  and  who  recommended 
you  to  the  Kolner  Hof.  He  also  was  one  of 
ours." 

Stewart  was  looking  at  her  steadily. 

"Then  in  that  case,"  he  said,  and  his  face  was 
gray  and  stern,  "  it  was  I,  and  no  one  else,  you  ex 
pected  to  meet  at  the  Kolner  Hof." 

"  Yes,"  she  answered  with  trembling  lips,  but 
meeting  his  gaze  unwaveringly. 

"  And  all  that  followed — the  tears,  the  dismay — 
was  make-believe  ?  " 

"  Yes.    I  cannot  lie  to  you,  my  friend." 

Stewart  passed  an  unsteady  hand  before  his  eyes. 
It  seemed  that  something  had  suddenly  burst  within 
him — some  dream,  some  vision 

"  So  I  was  deliberately  used,"  he  began,  hoarsely ; 
but  she  stopped  him,  her  hand  upon  his  arm. 

"  Do  not  speak  in  that  tone,"  she  pleaded,  her  face 
wrung  with  anguish.  "  Do  not  look  at  me  like  that 
— I  did  not  know — I  had  never  seen  you — it  was  not 
my  plan.  We  were  face  to  face  with  failure — we 
.were  desperate — there  seemed  no  other  way."  She 


PRESTO!    CHANGE!  149 

stopped,  shuddering  slightly,  and  drew  away  from 
him.  "  At  least,  you  will  say  good-by,"  she  said, 
softly. 

Dazedly  Stewart  looked  at  her — at  her  eyes  dark 
with  sadness,  at  her  face  suddenly  so  white 

She  was  standing  near  the  window,  her  hand 
upon  the  curtain. 

"  Good-by,  my  friend,"  she  repeated.  "  You  have 
been  very  good  to  me !  " 

For  an  instant  longer,  Stewart  stood  staring — then 
he  sprang  at  her,  seized  her 

"  Do  you  mean  that  you  are  going  to  leave  me?  " 
he  demanded,  roughly. 

"  Surely  that  is  what  you  wish !  " 

"  What  I  wish  ?  No,  no !  What  do  I  care — what 
does  it  matter ! "  The  words  were  pouring  inco 
herently  from  his  trembling  lips.  "  I  understand — 
you  were  desperate — you  didn't  know  me;  even  if 
'  you  had,  it  would  make  no  difference.  Don't  you 
understand — nothing  can  make  any  difference 
now!" 

She  shivered  a  little;  then  she  drew  away,  look 
ing  at  him. 

"You  mean,"  she  stammered;  "you  mean  that 
you  still — that  you  still " 

"  Little  comrade !  "  he  said,  and  held  out  his  arms. 


150         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

She  lifted  her  eyes  to  his — wavered  toward 
him • 

"  Halt ! "  cried  a  voice  outside  the  window,  and 
an  instant  later  there  came  a  heavy  hammering  on 
the  street  door. 


CHAPTER   IX 
THE  FRONTIER 

THE  knocking  seemed  to  shake  the  house,  so  violent 
it  was,  so  insistent;  and  Stewart,  petrified,  stood 
jst^ring  numbly.  But  his  companion  was  quicker 
than  he.  In  an  instant  she  had  run  to  the  light  and 
blown  it  out.  Then  she  was  back  at  his  side. 

"  The  moment  they  are  in  the  house,"  she  said, 
"  raise  the  window  as  silently  as  you  can  and  urbolt 
the  shutter." 

And  then  she  was  gone  again,  and  he  could  hear 
her  moving  about  near  the  door. 

Again  the  knocking  came,  louder  than  before.  It 
could  mean  only  one  thing,  Stewart  told  himself — 
'their  ruse  had  been  discovered — a  party  of  soldiers 
had  come  to  arrest  them 

He  drew  a  quick  breath.  What  then  ?  He  closed 
his  eyes  dizzily — what  had  she  said ?  "A  file  of 
soldiers  in  front,  a  wall  behind !  "  But  that  should 
never  be !  They  must  kill  him  first !  And  then  he 
sickened  as  he  realized  how  puny  he  was,  how  utterly 
powerless  to  protect  her 


152         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

He  heard  shuffling  footsteps  approach  along  the 
hall,  and  a  glimmer  of  light  showed  beneath  the 
door.  For  an  instant  Stewart  stared  at  it  uncom 
prehending — then  he  smiled  to  himself.  The  girl, 
quicker  witted  than  he,  had  pulled  away  the  things 
that  had  been  stuffed  there. 

"  Who  is  it  ?  "  called  the  voice  of  their  landlady. 

"  It  is  I,  Frau  Ritter,"  answered  the  voice  of  the 
police  agent.  "  Open  quickly." 

A  key  rattled  in  a  lock,  the  door  was  opened,  and 
the  party  stepped  inside. 

Stewart,  at  the  window,  raised  the  sash  and  pulled 
baok  the  bolt  He  could  hear  the  confused  murmur 
of  voices — men's  voices 

Tl/en  he  felt  a  warm  hand  in  his  and  lips  at  his 
ear. 

"  It  .s  the  person  from  Strassburg,"  she  breathed. 
"  He  has  been  brought  here  for  the  night.  There  is 
no  danger.  Bolt  the  shutter  again — but  softly."  ^ 

She  was  gone  again,  and  Stewart,  with  a  deep 
breath  that  was  almost  a  sob,  thrust  home  the  bolt. 
The  voices  were  clearer  now — or  perhaps  it  was  the 
singing  of  his  blood  that  was  stilled — and  he  could 
hear  their  words. 

"  You  will  give  this  gentleman  a  room,"  said  the 
secret  agent. 


THE  FRONTIER  153 

"  iTes,  Excellency." 

"  How  are  your  other  guests  ?  " 

"  I  have  heard  nothing  from  them,  Excellency, 
since  they  retired." 

Suddenly  Stewart  felt  his  hat  lifted  from  his  head 
and  a  hand  rumpling  his  hair. 

"  Take  off  your  coat,"  whispered  a  voice.  "  Open 
the  door  a  little  and  demand  less  noise.  Say  that  I 
am  asleep ! " 

It  was  a  call  to  battle,  and  Stewart  felt  his  nerves 
stiffen.  Without  a  word  he  threw  off  his  coat  and 
tore  off  his  collar.  Then  he  moved  away  the  chair 
from  before  the  door,  opened  it,  and  put  one  eye  to 
the  crack.  There  were  five  people  in  the  hall — the 
woman,  the  secret  agent,  two  soldiers,  and  a  man  in' 
civilian  attire. 

"  What  the  deuce  is  the  matter  out  there  ?  "  he 
demanded. 

It  did  his  heart  good  to  see  how  they  jumped  at 
the  sound  of  his  voice. 

"  Your  pardon,  sir,"  said  the  officer,  stepping 
toward  him.  "  I  hope  we  have  not  disturbed 
you." 

"  Disturbed  me  ?  Why,  I  thought  you  were 
knocking  the  house  down !  " 

"  Frau  Ritter  is  a  heavy  sleeper,"  the  other  ex- 


154         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

plained  with  a  smile.  "  You  will  present  my  apol 
ogies  to  Madame." 

"  My  wife  is  so  weary  that  even  this  has  not 
awakened  her,  but  I  hope " 

"  What  is  it,  Tommy?  "  asked  a  sleepy  voice  from 
the  darkness  behind  him.  "  To  whom  are  you  talk 
ing  out  there  ?  " 

"  Your  pardon,  madame,"  said  the  officer,  raising 
his  voice,  and  doubtless  finding  a  certain  piquancy  in 
the  situation.  "  You  shall  not  be  disturbed  again — 
I  promise  it,"  and  he  signed  for  his  men  to  with 
draw.  "  Good-night,  sir." 

"  Good-night !  "  answered  Stewart,  and  shut  the 
door. 

He  was  so  shaken  with  mirth  that  he  scarcely 
heard  the  outer  door  close.  Then  he  staggered  to  the 
bed  and  collapsed  upon  it. 

"  Oh,  little  comrade !  "  he  gasped.  "  Little  com 
rade  !  "  and  he  buried  his  head  in  the  clothes  to  choke 
back  the  hysterical  shouts  of  laughter  which  rose  in 
his  throat. 

"  Hush !  Hush !  "  she  warned  him,  her  hand  on 
his  shoulder.  "  Get  your  coat  and  hat.  Be  quick !  " 

The  search  for  those  articles  of  attire  sobered  him. 
He  had  never  before  realized  how  large  a  small 
room  may  become  in  the  dark !  His  coat  he  found  ii> 


THE  FRONTIER  155 

©ne  corner;  his  hat  miles  away  in  another.  His 
collar  and  tie  seemed  to  have  disappeared  utterly, 
and  lie  was  about  to  abandon  them  to  their  fate, 
when  his  hand  came  into  contact  with  them  under  the 
bed.  He  felt  utterly  exhausted,  and  sat  on  the  floor 
panting  for  breath.  Then  somebody  stumbled 
against  him. 

"  Where  have  you  been  ?  "  her  voice  demanded  im 
patiently.  "  What  have  you  been  doing  ?  " 

"  I  have  been  around  the  world,"  said  Stewart. 
"  And  I  explored  it  thoroughly." 

Her  hand  found  his  shoulder  and  shook  it  vio 
lently. 

"  Is  this  a  time  for  jesting?    Come!  " 

Stewart  got  heavily  to  his  feet. 

"  Really,"  he  protested,  "  I  wasn't  jesting " 

"  Hush !  "  she  cautioned,  and  suddenly  Stewart 
saw  her  silhouetted  against  the  window  and  knew 
that  it  was  open.  Then  he  saw  her  peer  cautiously 
out,  swing  one  leg  over  the  sill,  and  let  herself  down 
outside. 

"  Careful !  "  she  whispered. 

In  a  moment  he  was  standing  beside  her  in  the' 
narrow  street.     She  caught  his  hand  and  led  him 
away  close  in  the  shadow  of  the  wall. 

The  night  air  and  the  movement  revived   him 


156         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

somewhat,  and  by  a  desperate  effort  of  will  he  man 
aged  to  walk  without  stumbling;  but  he  was  still 
deadly  tired.  He  knew  that  he  was  suffering  from 
the  reaction  from  the  manifold  adventures  and  ex 
citements  of  the  day,  more  especially  the  reaction 
from  despair  to  hope  of  the  last  half  hour,  and  he 
tried  his  best  to  shake  it  off,  marveling  at  the  endur 
ance  of  this  slender  girl,  who  had  borne  so  much 
more  than  he. 

She  went  straight  on  along  the  narrow  street, 
close  in  the  shadow  of  the  houses,  pausing  now  and 
then  to  listen  to  some  distant  sound,  and  once  hastily 
drawing  him  deep  into  the  shadow  of  a  doorway  as  a 
patrol  passed  along  a  cross-street. 

Then  the  houses  came  to  an  end,  and  Stewart 
saw  that  they  were  upon  a  white  road  running 
straight  away  between  level  fields.  Overhead  the 
bright  stars  shone  as  calmly  and  peacefully  as 
though  there  were  no  such  ihing  as  war  in  the  whole 
universe,  and  looking  up  at  them,  Stewart  felt  him 
self  tranquilized  and  strengthened. 

"  Now  what  ?  "  he  asked.  "  I  warn  you  that  I 
shall  go  to  sleep  on  my  feet  before  long !  " 

"  We  must  not  stop  until  we  are  across  the 
frontier.  It  cannot  be  farther  than  half  a  mile." 

Half  a  mile  seemed  an  eternity  to  Stewart  at  that 


THE  FRONTIER  157 

moment;  besides,  which  way  should  they  go?  He 
gave  voice  to  the  question,  after  a  helpless  look 
around,  for  he  had  completely  lost  his  bearings. 

"  Yonder  is  the  Great  Bear,"  said  the  girl,  look 
ing  up  to  where  that  beautiful  constellation  stretched 
brilliantly  across  the  sky.  "  What  is  your  word  for 
it— the  Ladle,  is  it  not?" 

"  The  Dipper,"  Stewart  corrected,  reflecting  that 
this  was  the  first  time  she  had  been  at  loss  for  a 
word. 

"  Yes — the  Dipper.  It  will  help  us  to  find  our 
way.  All  I  know  of  astronomy  is  that  a  line  drawn 
through  the  two  stars  of  the  bowl  points  to  the  North 
Star.  So  that  insignificant  little  star  up  yonder  must 
be  the  North  Star.  Now,  what  is  the  old  formula — 
if  one  stands  with  one's  face  to  the  north " 

"  Your  right  hand  will  be  toward  the  east  and 
your  left  toward  the  west,"  prompted  Stewart. 

"  So  the  frontier  is  to  our  left.     Come." 

She  released  his  hand,  leaped  the  ditch  at  the  side 
of  the  road,  and  set  off  westward  across  a  rough 
field.  Stewart  stumbled  heavily  after  her ;  but  pres 
ently  his  extreme  exhaustion  passed,  and  was  fol 
lowed  by  a  sort  of  nervous  exhilaration  which  en 
abled  him  easily  to  keep  up  with  her.  They  climbed 
a  wall,  struggled  through  a  strip  of  woodland — 


158        THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

Stewart  had  never  before  realized  how  difficult  it  is 
to  go  through  woods  at  night! — passed  close  to  a 
house  where  a  barking  dog  sent  panic  terror  through 
them,  and  came  at  last  to  a  road  running  westward, 
toward  Belgium  and  safety.  Along  this  they 
hastened  as  rapidly  as  they  could. 

"  We  must  be  past  the  frontier,"  said  Stewart, 
half  an  hour  later.  "  We  have  come  at  least  two 
miles." 

"  Let  us  be  sure,"  gasped  the  girl.  "  Let  us  take 
no  chance !  "  and  she  pressed  on. 

Stewart  reflected  uneasily  that  they  had  en 
countered  no  outposts,  and  surely  there  would  be 
outposts  at  the  frontier  to  maintain  its  neutrality  and 
intercept  stragglers;  but  perhaps  that  would  be  only 
on  the  main-traveled  roads ;  or  perhaps  the  outposts 
were  not  yet  in  place;  or  perhaps  they  might  run  into 
one  at  any  moment.  He  looked  forward  apprehen 
sively,  but  the  road  lay  white  and  empty  under  the 
stars. 

Suddenly  the  girl  stumbled  and  nearly  fell.  His 
arm  was  about  her  in  an  instant.  He  could  feel  how 
her  body  drooped  against  him  in  utter  weariness. 
She  had  reached  the  end  of  her  strength. 

"  Come,"  he  said;  "  we  must  rest,"  and  he  led  her 
unresisting1  to  the  side  of  the  road. 


THE  FRONTIER  159 

They  sat  down  close  together  with  their  backs 
against  the  wall,  and  her  head  for  an  instant  fell 
upon  his  shoulder.  By  a  supreme  effort,  she  roused 
herself. 

"  We  cannot  stay  here !  "  she  protested. 

"  No,"  Stewart  agreed.  "  Do  you  think  you  can 
climb  this  wall?  We  may  find  cover  on  the  other 
side." 

"Of  course  I  can,"  and  she  tried  to  rise,  but 
Stewart  had  to  assist  her.  "  I  do  not  know  what  is 
the  matter,"  she  panted,  as  she  clung  to  him.  "  I 
can  scarcely  stand !  " 

"  It's  the  reaction,"  said  Stewart.  "  It  was  bound 
to  come,  sooner  or  later.  I  had  my  attack  back  there 
on  the  road.  Now  I  am  going  to  lift  you  on  top  of 
the  wall." 

She  threw  one  leg  over  it  and  sat  astride. 

"  Oh,  I  have  dropped  the  bundle,"  she  said. 

"Have  you  been  carrying  it  all  this  time?" 
Stewart  demanded. 

"  Why,  of  course.     It  weighs  nothing." 

Stewart,  groping  angrily  along  the  base  of  the 
wall,  found  it,  tucked  it  under  his  arm,  scrambled 
over,  and  lifted  her  down. 

"  Now,  forward !  "  he  said. 

At  the  second  step,  they  were  in  a  field  of  grain  as 


160         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

high  as  their  waists.  They  could  feel  it  brushing 
against  them,  twining  about  their  ankles;  they  could 
glimpse  its  yellow  expanse  stretching  away  into  the 
night. 

>  "  Splendid !  "  cried  Stewart.  "  There  could  be  no 
/better  cover ! "  and  he  led  her  forward  into  it. 
"  Now,"  he  added,  at  the  end  of  five  minutes,  "  stand 
where  you  are  till  I  get  things  ready  for  you,"  and 
with  his  knife  he  cut  down  great  handfuls  of  the 
grain  and  piled  them  upon  the  ground.  "  There's 
your  bed,"  he  said,  placing  the  bundle  of  clothing  at 
one  end  of  it;  "  and  there's  your  pillow." 

She  sat  down  with  a  sigh  of  relief. 

"  Oh,  how  heavenly !  " 

"  You  can  go  to  sleep  without  fear.  No  one  can 
discover  us  here,  unless  they  stumble  right  over  us. 
Good-night,  little  comrade." 

"But  you?" 

"  Oh,  I  am  going  to  sleep,  too.  I'll  make  myself  a 
bed  just  over  here."  • 

I  "  Good-night,  my  friend !  "  she  said,  softly,  and 
Stewart,  looking  down  at  her,  catching  the  starry 
sheen  of  her  uplifted  eyes,  felt  a  wild  desire  to  fling 
himself  beside  her,  to  take  her  in  his  arms 

Resolutely  he  turned  away  and  piled  his  own  bed 
at  a  little  distance.  It  would  have  been  safer,  per- 


THE  FRONTIER  161 

haps,  had  they  slept  side  by  side;  but  there  was 
about  her  something  delicate  and  virginal  which  kept 
him  at  a  distance — and  yet  held  him  too,  bound  him 
powerfully,  led  him  captive. 

He  was  filled  with  the  thought  of  her,  as  he  lay 
gazing  up  into  the  spangled  heavens — her  beauty, 
her  fire,  her  indomitable  youth,  her  clear-eyed  inno 
cence  which  left  him  reverent  and  trembling.  What 
was  her  story?  Where  were  her  people  that  they 
should  permit  her  to  take  such  desperate  risks? 
Why  had  this  great  mission  been  confided  to  her — to 
a  girl,  young,  inexperienced?  And  yet,  the  choice 
had  evidently  been  a  wise  one.  She  had  proved  her 
self  worthy  of  the  trust.  No  one  could  have  been 
quicker-witted,  more  ready  of  resource. 

Well,  the  worst  of  it  was  over.  They  were  safe 
out  of  Germany.  It  was  only  a  question  now  of 
reaching  a  farmhouse,  of  hiring  a  wagon,  of  driving 
to  the  nearest  station 

He  stirred  uneasily.  That  would  mean  good-by. 
But  why  should  he  go  to  Brussels?  Why  not  turn 
south  with  her  to  France? 

Sleep  came  to  him  as  he  was  asking  himself  this 
question  for  the  twentieth  time. 

It  was  full  day  when  he  awoke.  He  looked  about 
for  a  full  minute  at  the  yellow  grain,  heavy-headed 


1 62        THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

and  ready  for  the  harvest,  before  he  remembered 
where  he  was.  Then  he  rubbed  his  eyes  and  looked 
again — the  wheat-field,  certainly — that  was  all  right ; 
but  what  was  that  insistent  murmur  which  filled  his 
ears,  which  never  ceased  ?  He  sat  hastily  erect  and 
.started  to  his  feet — then  as  hastily  dropped  to  his 
knees  again  and  peered  cautiously  above  the  grain. 

Along  the  road,  as  far  in  either  direction  as  the 
eye  could  see,  passed  a  mighty  multitude,  marching 
steadily  westward.  Stewart's  heart  beat  faster  as 
he  ran  his  eyes  over  that  great  host — thousands  and 
tens  of  thousands,  clad  in  greenish-gray,  each  with 
his  rifle  and  blanket-roll,  his  full  equipment  com 
plete  to  the  smallest  detail — the  German  army  set 
ting  forth  to  war!  Oh,  wonderful,  astounding, 
stupendous ! — a  myriad  of  men,  moving  as  one  man, 
obeying  one  man's  bidding,  marching  out  to  kill  and 
•to  be  killed. 

And  marching  willingly,  even  eagerly.  The 
bright  morning,  the  sense  of  high  adventure,  the  ex 
hilaration  of  marching  elbow  to  elbow  with  a  thou 
sand  comrades — yes,  and  love  of  country,  the 
thought  that  they  were  fighting  for  their  Fatherland 
— all  these  uplifted  the  heart  and  made  the  eye 
sparkle.  Forgotten  for  the  moment  were  poignant 
farewells,  the  tears  of  women  and  of  children.  The 


THE  FRONTIER  163 

round  of  daily  duties,  the  quiet  of  the  fireside,  the 
circle  of  familiar  faces — all  that  had  receded  far 
into  the  past.  A  new  life  had  begun,  a  larger  and 
more  glorious  life.  They  felt  that  they  were  men 
going  forward  to  men's  work;  they  were  drinking 
deep  of  a  cup  brimming  with  the  joy  of  supreme 
experience ! 

There  were  jests  and  loud  laughter;  there  were 
snatches  of  song;  and  presently  a  thousand  voices 
were  shouting  what  sounded  to  Stewart  like  a 
mighty  hymn — shouting  it  in  slow  and  solemn  uni 
son,  marked  by  the  tramp,  tramp  of  their  feet.  Not 
until  he  caught  the  refrain  did  he  know  what  it 
was — "  Deutschland,  Deutschland,  ilber  alles!" — 
the  German  battle-song,  fit  expression  of  the  firm 
conviction  that  the  Fatherland  was  first,  was  dearest, 
must  be  over  all !  And  as  he  looked  and  listened,  he 
felt  his  own  heart  thrill  responsively,  and  a 
new  definition  of  patriotism  grouped  itself  in  his 
mind. 

Then  suddenly  he  remembered  his  companiori, 
and,  parting  the  wheat,  he  crawled  hastily  through 
into  the  little  amphitheater  where  he  had  made  her 
bed.  She  was  still  asleep,  her  head  pillowed  on  the 
bundle  of  clothing,  one  arm  above  her  eyes,  shield 
ing  them  from  the  light  He  sat  softly  down  be- 


1 64        THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

side  her,  his  heart  very  tender.  She  had  been  so  near 
exhaustion ;  he  must  not  awaken  her 

A  blare  of  bugles  shrilled  from  the  road,  and 
from  far  off  rose  a  roar  of  cheering,  sweeping  nearer 
and  nearer.  t 

The  girl  stirred,  turned  uneasily,  opened  her  eyes, 
stared  up  at  him  for  a  moment,  and  then  sat  hastily 
erect. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  The  German  army  is  advancing." 

"Yes — but  the  cheering?" 

"  I  don't  know." 

Side  by  side,  they  peered  out  above  the  grain.  A 
heavy  motor-car  was  advancing  rapidly  from  the 
cast  along  the  road,  the  troops  drawing  aside 
to  let  it  pass,  and  cheering — cheering,  as  though 
mad. 

Inside  the  car  were  three  men,  but  the  one  who  ac 
knowledged  the  salutes  of  the  officers  as  he  passed 
was  a  tall,  slender  young  fellow  in  a  long,  gray 
coat.  His  face  was  radiant,  and  he  saluted  and 
saluted,  and  once  or  twice  rose  to  his  feet  and 
pointed  westward. 

"  The  Crown  Prince !  "  said  the  girl,  and  watched 
in  heavy  silence  until  the  motor  passed  from  sight 
and  the  host  took  up  its  steady  march  again.  "  Ah, 


THE  FRONTIER  165 

well,  he  at  least  has  realized  his  ambition — to  lead  an 
army  against  France !  " 

"  It  seems  to  be  a  devoted  army,"  Stewart  re 
marked.  "  I  never  heard  such  cheering." 

"  It  is  a  splendid  army,"  and  the  girl  swept  her 
eyes  back  and  forth  over  the  marching  host. 
"  France  will  have  no  easy  task — but  she  is  fighting 
for  her  life,  and  she  will  win!  " 

I  hope  so,"  Stewart  agreed ;  but  his  heart  mis- 
him  as  he  looked  at  these  marching  men, 
sweeping  on  endlessly,  irresistibly,  in  a  torrent 
which  seemed  powerful  enough  to  engulf  everything 
in  its  path. 

He  had  never  before  seen  an  army,  even  a  small 
one,  and  this  mighty  host  unnerved  and  intimidated 
him.  It  was  so  full  of  vigor,  so  self-confident,  so 
evidently  certain  of  victory!  It  was  so  sturdy, 
so  erect,  so  proud!  There  was  about  it  an 
electric  sense  of  power;  it  almost  strutted  as  it 
marched ! 

"  There  is  one  thing  certain,"  he  said,  at  last, 
"  and  that  is  that  our  adventures  are  not  yet  over. 
With  our  flight  discovered,  and  Germans  in  front  of 
us  and  behind  us  and  probably  on  either  side  of  us, 
our  position  is  still  decidedly  awkward.  I  suppose 
their  outposts  are  somewhere  ahead." 


1 66         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  so,"  she  agreed.  "  Along  the 
Meuse,  perhaps." 

"  And  I  am  most  awfully  hungry.    Aren't  you?  " 

"  Yes,  I  am." 

"  I  have  heard  that  whole  wheat  makes  a  delicious 
breakfast  dish,"  said  Stewart,  who  felt  unaccount 
ably  down-hearted  and  was  determined  not  to  show 
it.  "  Shall  we  try  some  ?  " 

She  nodded,  smiling,  then  turned  back  to  watch 
the  Germans,  as  though  fascinated  by  them.  Stew 
art  broke  off  a  dozen  heads  of  yellow  grain,  rubbed 
them  out  between  his  hands,  blew  away  the  chaff, 
and  poured  the  fat  kernels  into  her  outstretched 
palm.  Then  he  rubbed  out  a  mouthful  for  himself. 

"  But  that  they  should  invade  Belgium !  "  she 
said,  half  to  herself.  "  Did  you  hear  what  that  man 
said  last  night — that  a  treaty  was  only  a  scrap  of 
paper — that  if  Belgium  resisted,  she  would  be 
crushed  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  nodded  Stewart,  "  and  it  disgusted  me !  " 

"  But  of  course  France  has  expected  it — she  has 
prepared  for  it !  "  went  on  the  girl,  perhaps  to  silence 
her  own  misgivings.  "  She  will  not  be  -  taken  by 
surprise ! " 

"  You  don't  think,  then,  that  the  Kaiser  will  dine 
in  Paris  on  the  twelfth?" 


THE  FRONTIER  167 

"  Nonsense — that  was  only  an  empty  boast !  " 

"  Well,  I  hope  so,"  said  Stewart.  "  And  wherever 
he  dines,  I  hope  that  he  has  something  more  appetiz 
ing  than  whole  wheat  au  naturel.  I  move  we  look 
,'  for  a  house  and  try  to  get  some  real  food  that  we 
can  put  our  teeth  into.  Also  something  to  drink." 

'  Yes,  we  must  be  getting  forward,"  she  agreed. 

Together  they  peered  out  again  above  the  grain. 
The  massed  column  was  still  passing,  shimmering 
along  the  dusty  road  like  a  mighty  green-gray  ser 
pent. 

"  Isn't  there  any  end  to  these  fellows?  "  Stewart 
asked.  "  We  must  have  seen  about  a  million !  " 

"  Oh,  no ;  this  is  but  a  single  division — and  there 
are  at  least  a  hundred  divisions  in  the  German 
army!  No  doubt  there  is  another  division  on  each 
of  the  roads  leading  into  Belgium.  We  shall  have 
to  keep  away  from  the  roads.  Let  us  work  our  way 
back  through  the  grain  to  that  strip  of  woodland. 
No,"  she  added,  as  Stewart  stooped  to  pick  up  the 
bundle  of  clothing,  "  we  must  leave  that.  If  we 
should  happen  to  be  stopped,  it  would  betray  us. 
What  are  you  doing?  " 

Without  replying,  Stewart  opened  the  bundle, 
thoughtfully  selected  a  strand  of  the  beautiful  hair 
inside  it  and  placed  the  lock  carefully  in  a  flapped 


1 68         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

compartment  of  his  pocket-book.  Then  he  re-tied 
the  bundle  and  threw  over  it  some  of  the  severed 
stalks. 

"  It  seems  a  shame  to  leave  it,"  he  said.  "  That 
is  a  beautiful  gown — and  the  hair!  Think  of  those 
barbarians  opening  the  bundle  and  finding  that  lovely 
hair!" 

The  girl,  who  had  been  watching  him  with  bril 
liant  eyes,  laughed  a  little  and  caught  his  hand. 

"  How  foolish  !  Come  along !  I  think  I  shall  let 
you  keep  that  lock  of  hair !  "  she  added,  thought 
fully. 

Stewart  looked  at  her  quickly  and  savr  that  the 
dimple  was  visible. 

"Thank  you!"  he  said.  "Of  course  I  should 
have  asked.  Forgive  me !  " 

She  gave  him  a  flashing  little  smile,  then,  bending 
low,  hurried  forward  through  the  grain.  Beyond 
the  field  lay  a  stretch  of  woodland,  and  presently  they 
heard  the  sound  of  running  water,  and  came  to  a 
brook  flowing  gently  over  a  clean  and  rocky  bed. 

With  a  cry  of  delight,  the  girl  dropped  to  her 
knees  beside  it,  bent  far  over  and  drank  deep ;  then 
threw  off  her  coat,  pushed  her  sleeves  above  her 
elbows,  and  laved  hands  and  face  in  the  cool  water. 

"  Hovr  fortunate  my  hair  is  short !  "  she  said,  con- 


THE  FRONTIER  169 

templating  her  reflection.  "  Otherwise  it  would  be  a 
perfect  tangle.  I  make  a  very  nice  boy,  do  you  not 
think  so?" 

"  An  adorable  boy !  "  agreed  Stewart,  heartily. 

She  glanced  up  at  him. 
•      *'  Thank  you !    But  are  you  not  going  to  wash  ?  " 

"  Not  until  you  have  finished.  You  are  such  a 
radiant  beauty,  that  it  would  be  a  sin  to  miss  an 
{nstant  of  you.  My  clothes  are  even  more  becoming 
to  you  than  your  own!  " 

She  glanced  down  over  her  slender  figure,  so  fine, 
so  delicately  rounded,  then  sprang  quickly  to  her  feet 
and  snatched  up  the  coat. 

"  I  will  reconnoiter  our  position  while  you  make 
your  toilet,"  she  said,  and  slipped  out  of  sight  among 
the  trees. 

Ten  minutes  later,  Stewart  found  her  seated  on  a 
little  knoll  at  the  edge  of  the  wood,  looking  out 
across  the  country. 

"  There  is  a  house  over  yonder,"  she  said,  nod 
ding  to  where  the  corner  of  a  gable  showed  among 
the  trees.  "  But  it  may  be  dangerous  to  approach  it." 

"  We  can't  starve,"  he  pointed  out.  "  And  we 
seem  to  be  lucky.  Suppose  I  go  on  ahead?  " 

"No;  we  will  go  together,"  and  she  sprang  to 
her  feet. 


1 70         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

The  way  led  over  a  strip  of  rocky  ground,  used 
evidently  as  a  pasture,  but  there  were  no  cattle  graz 
ing  on  it;  then  along  a  narrow  lane  between  low 
stone  walls.  Presently  they  reached  the  house,  which 
seemed  to  be  the  home  of  a  small  farmer,  for  it 
stood  at  the  back  of  a  yard  with  stables  and  sheds 
grouped  about  it.  The  gate  was  open  and  there  was 
no  sign  of  life  within.  Stewart  started  to  enter, 
but  suddenly  stopped  and  looked  at  his  companion. 

"  There  is  something  wrong  here,"  he  said,  al 
most  in  a  whisper.  "  I  feel  it." 

"  So  do  I,"  said  the  girl,  and  stared  about  at  the 
deserted  space,  shivering  slightly.  Then  she  looked 
upward  into  the  clear  sky.  "  It  was  as  if  a  cloud 
had  come  between  me  and  the  sun,"  she  added. 

"  Perhaps  it  is  just  that  everything  seems  so 
deserted,"  said  Stewart,  and  stepped  through  the 
gate. 

"  No  doubt  the  people  fled  when  they  saw  the  Ger 
mans,"  she  suggested;  "or  perhaps  it  was  just  a 
rumor  that  frightened  them  away." 

Stewart  looked  about  him.  It  was  not  only  peo 
ple  that  were  missing  from  this  farmyard,  he  told 
himself;  there  should  have  been  pigs  in  the  sty, 
chickens  scratching  in  the  straw,  pigeons  on  the 
roof,  a  cat  on  the  door-step. 


THE  FRONTIER  171 

"  We  must  have  food,"  he  said,  and  went  for 
ward  resolutely  to  the  door,  which  stood  ajar. 

There  was  something  vaguely  sinister  in  the  posi 
tion  of  the  door,  half-open  and  half-closed,  but  after 
an  instant's  hesitation,  he  knocked  loudly.  A  min 
ute  passed,  and  another,  and  there  was  no  response. 
IsTerving  himself  as  though  for  a  mighty  effort,  he 
pushed  the  door  open  and  looked  into  the  room  be 
yond. 

It  was  evidently  the  living-room  and  dining-room 
combined,  and  it  was  in  the  wildest  disorder.  Chairs 
were  overturned,  a  table  was  lying  on  its  side  with 
one  leg  broken,  dishes  lay  smashed  upon  the  floor. 

Summoning  all  his  resolution,  Stewart  stepped  in- 
aide.  What  frightful  thing  had  happened  here? 
From  the  chairs  and  the  dishes,  it  looked  as  if  the 
family  had  been  surprised  at  breakfast.  But  where 
was  the  family  ?  Who  had  surprised  them  ?  What 
had 

And  then  his  heart  leaped  sickeningly  as  his  eyes 
fell  upon  a  huddled  figure  lying  in  one  corner,  close 
against  the  wall.  It  was  the  body  of  a  woman,  her 
clothing  disordered,  a  long,  gleaming  bread-knife 
dutched  tightly  in  one  hand;  and  as  Stewart  bent 
above  her,  he  saw  that  her  head  had  been  beaten  irk 


CHAPTER  X 
FORTUNE  FROWNS 

ONE  look  at  that  disfigured  countenance  imprinted 
it  indelibly  on  Stewart's  memory — the  blue  eyes 
staring  horribly  upward  from  under  the  shattered 
forehead,  the  hair  matted  with  blood,  the  sprawling 
body,  the  gleaming  knife  caught  up  in  what  moment 
of  desperation !  Shaking  with  horror,  he  seized  his 
companion's  hand  and  led  her  away  out  of  the  dese 
crated  house,  out  of  the  silent  yard,  out  into  the  nar 
row  lane  where  they  could  breathe  freely. 

"  The  Uhlans  have  passed  this  way,"  said  the 
girl,  staring  up  and  down  the  road. 

"  But,"  stammered  Stewart,  wiping  his  wet  fore 
head,  "  but  I  don't  understand.  Germany  is  a  civi 
lized  nation — war  is  no  longer  the  brutal  thing  it 
once  was." 

"  War  is  always  brutal,  I  fear,"  said  the  girl, 
sadly ;  "  and  of  course,  among  a  million  men,  there 
are  certain  to  be  some — like  that !  I  am  no  longer 
hungry.  Let  us  press  on." 


FORTUNE  FROWNS  173 

Stewart,  nodding,  followed  along  beside  her, 
across  fields,  over  little  streams,  up  and  down 
stretches  of  rocky  hillside,  always  westward.  But 
he  saw  nothing;  his  mind  was  full  of  other  things — 
of  the  gray-clad  thousands  singing  as  they  marched ; 
of  the  radiant  face  of  the  Crown  Prince;  of  that 
poor  murdered  woman,  who  had  risen  happily  this 
Sunday  morning,  glad  of  a  day  of  rest,  and  looked 
tap  to  see  strange  faces  at  the  door 

And  this  was  war.  A  thousand  other  women 
would  suffer  the  same  fate;  thousands  and  thou 
sands  more  would  be  thrown  stripped  and  defense 
less  on  the  world,  to  live  or  die  as  chance  might 
will;  a  hundred  thousand  children  would  be  father 
less;  a  hundred  thousand  girls,  now  ripening  into 
womanhood,  would  be  denied  their  rightful  destiny 
of  marriage  and  children  of  their  own 

Stewart  shook  the  thought  away.  The  picture  his 
imagination  painted  was  too  horrible ;  it  could  never 
come  true — not  all  the  emperors  on  earth  could  make 
it  come  true ! 

He  looked  about  him  at  the  mellow  landscape. 
Nowhere  was  there  a  sign  of  life.  The  yellow  wheat 
stood  ripe  for  the  harvest.  The  pastures  stretched 
lush  and  green — and  empty.  Here  and  there  above 
the  trees  he  caught  a  glimpse  of  farm-house  chim- 


174         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

neys,  but  no  reassuring  smoke  floated  above  them. 
A  peaceful  land,  truly,  so  he  told  himself — peaceful 
as  death ! . 

Gradually  the  country  grew  rougher  and  more 
broken,  and  ahead  of  them  they  could  see  steep  and 
!  rocky  hillsides,  cleft  by  deep  valleys  and  covered  by  a 
thick  growth  of  pine. 

"We  must  find  a  road,"  said  Stewart  at  last; 
"  we  can't  climb  up  and  down  those  hills.  And  we 
must  find  out  where  we  are.  There  is  a  certain 
risk,  but  we  must  take  it.  It  is  foolish  to  stumble 
forward  blindly." 

"  You  are  right,"  his  companion  agreed,  and  when 
presently,  far  below  them  at  the  bottom  of  a  valley, 
they  saw  a  white  road  winding,  they  made  their  way 
down  to  it.  Almost  at  once  they  came  to  a  house,  in 
whose  door  stood  a  buxom,  fair-haired  woman,  with 
a  child  clinging  to  her  skirts. 

The  woman  watched  them  curiously  as  they  ap 
proached,  and  her  face  seemed  to  Stewart  distinctly 
friendly. 

"  Good-morning,"  he  said,  stopping  before  the 
door-step  and  lifting  his  hat — an  unaccustomed  salu 
tation  at  which  the  woman  stared.  "  We  seem  to 
have  lost  our  way.  Can  you  tell  us " 

The  woman  shook  her  head. 


FORTUNE  FROWNS  175 

"  My  brother  and  I  have  lost  our  way,"  said  his 
companion,  in  rapid  French.  "  We  have  been 
tramping  the  hills  all  morning.  How  far  is  it  to  the 
nearest  village  ?  " 

"  The  nearest  village  is  Battice,"  answered  the 
woman  in  the  same  language.     "  It  is  three  kilo 
meters  from  here." 
[  "  Has  it  a  railway  station  ?  " 
^"  But  certainly.    How  is  it  you  do  not  know  ?  " 

"  We  come  from  the  other  direction." 

"  From  Germany  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  answered  the  girl,  after  an  instant's 
scrutiny  of  the  woman's  face. 

"  Then  you  are  fugitives  ?  Ah,  do  not  fear  to  tell 
me,"  she  added,  as  the  girl  hesitated.  "  I  have  no 
love  for  the  Germans.  I  have  lived  near  them  too 
long!" 

There  could  be  no  doubting  the  sincerity  of  the 
words,  nor  the  grimace  of  disgust  which  accom 
panied  them. 

"  Yes,"  assented  the  girl,  "  we  are  fugitives.  We 
are  trying  to  get  to  Liege.  Have  the  Germans  been 
this  way  ?  " 

"  No ;  I  have  seen  nothing  of  them,  but  I  have 
heard  that  a  great  army  has  passed  along  the  road 
through  Verviers." 


176         THE  GIRL  FROM' ALSACE 

"  Where  is  your  man  ?  " 

"  He  has  joined  the  army,  as  have  all  the  men  in 
this  neighborhood." 

"The  German  army?" 

I     "  Oh,  no;  the  Belgian  army.     It  is  doing  what  it 
'can  to  hold  back  the  Germans." 

The  girl's  face  lighted  with  enthusiasm. 

"  Oh,  how  splendid !  "  she  cried.  "  How  splendid 
for  your  brave  little  country  to  defy  the  invader! 
Bravo,  Belgium ! " 

The  woman  smiled  at  her  enthusiasm,  but  shook 
her  head  doubtfully. 

"  I  do  not  know,"  she  said,  simply.  "  I  do  not 
understand  these  things.  I  only  know  that  my  man 
has  gone,  and  that  I  must  harvest  our  grain  and  cut 
our  winter  wood  by  myself.  But  will  you  not  enter 
and  rest  yourselves  ?  " 

"  Thank  you.  And  we  are  very  hungry.  We 
have  money  to  pay  for  food,  if  you  can  let  us  have 
some." 

"  Certainly,  certainly,"  and  the  good  wife  bustled 
before  them  into  the  house. 

An  hour  later,  rested,  refreshed,  with  a  supply  of 
sandwiches  in  their  pockets,  and  armed  with  a  rough 
map  drawn  from  the  directions  of  their  hostess,  they 
were  ready  to  set  out  westward  again.  She  was  of 


FORTUNE  FROWNS  177 

the  opinion  that  they  could  pass  safely  through  Bat- 
tice,  which  was  off  the  main  road  of  the  German 
advance,  and  that  they  might  even  secure  there  a 
vehicle  of  some  sort  to  take  them  onward.  The 
trains,  she  understood,  were  no  longer  running. 
Finally  they  thanked  her  for  the  twentieth  time 
and  bade  her  good-by.  She  wished  them  God 
speed,  and  stood  watching  them  from  the  door  until 
tney  disappeared  from  view. 

They  pushed  forward  briskly,  and  presently,  hud 
dled  in  the  valley  below  them,  caught  sight  of  the 
gabled  roofs  of  the  village.  A  bell  was  ringing 
vigorously,  and  they  could  see  the  people — women 
and  children  for  the  most  part — gathering  in  toward 
the  little  church,  crowned  by  its  gilded  cross.  Evi 
dently  nothing  had  occurred  to  disturb  the  serenity 
of  Battice. 

Reassured,  the  two  were  about  to  push  on  down 
the  road,  when  suddenly,  topping  the  opposite  slope, 
they  saw  a  squadron  of  horsemen,  perhaps  fifty 
strong.  They  were  clad  in  greenish-gray,  and  each 
of  them  bore  upright  at  his  right  elbow  a  long  lance. 

"  Uhlans ! "  cried  the  girl,  and  the  fugitives 
stopped  short,  watching  with  bated  breath. 

The  troop  swung  down  the  road  toward  the  vil 
lage  at  a  sharp  trot,  and  presently  Stewart  could 


178        THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

distinguish  their  queer,  flat-topped  helmets,  remind 
ing  him  of  the  mortar-board  of  his  university  days. 
Right  at  the  edge  of  the  village,  in  the  shadow  of 
some  trees,  the  horsemen  drew  rein  and  waited  until 
the  bell  ceased  ringing  and  the  last  of  the  congrega 
tion  had  entered  the  church;  then,  at  the  word  of 
command,  they  touched  spur  to  flank  and  swept 
through  the  empty  street. 

A  boy  saw  them  first  and  raised  a  shout  of  alarm; 
then  a  woman,  hurrying  toward  the  church,  heard 
the  clatter  of  hoofs,  cast  one  glance  behind  her,  and 
ran  on,  screaming  wildly.  The  screams  penetrated 
the  church,  and  in  a  moment  the  congregation  came 
pouring  out,  only  to  find  themselves  hemmed  in  by 
a  semicircle  of  lowered  lances. 

The  lieutenant  shouted  a  command,  and  four  of 
his  men  threw  themselves  from  the  saddle  and  dis 
appeared  into  the  church.  They  were  back  in  a  mo 
ment,  dragging  between  them  a  white-haired  priest 
clad  in  stole  and  surplice,  and  a  rosy-faced  old  man, 
who,  even  in  this  trying  situation,  managed  to 
retain  his  dignity. 

The  two  were  placed  before  the  officer,  and  a  short 
conference  followed,  with  the  townspeople  pressing 
anxiously  around,  listening  to  every  word.  Sud 
denly  there  was  an  outburst  of  protest  and  despair, 


FORTUNE  FROWNS  179 

which  the  priest  quieted  with  a  motion  of  his  hand, 
and  the  conference  was  resumed. 

"  What  is  it  the  fellow  wants  ?  "  asked  Stewart 

"  Money  and  supplies,  I  suppose." 

"  Money  and  supplies  ?    But  that's  robbery !  " 

"  Oh,  no;  it  is  a  part  of  the  plan  of  the  German 
General  Staff.  How  many  times  have  I  heard  Prus 
sian  officers  boast  that  a  war  would  cost  Germany 
nothing — that  her  enemies  would  be  made  to  bear  the 
whole  burden !  It  has  all  been  arranged — the  in 
demnity  which  each  village,  even  the  smallest,  must 
pay — the  amount  of  supplies  which  each  must  fur 
nish,  the  ransom  which  will  be  assessed  on  each  in 
dividual.  This  lieutenant  of  Uhlans  is  merely 
carrying  out  his  instructions !  " 

"Who  is  the  old  man?" 

"  The  burgomaster,  doubtless.  He  and  the  priest 
are  always  the  most  influential  men  in  a  village." 

The  conference  was  waxing  \varmer,  the  lieu 
tenant  was  talking  in  a  loud  voice,  and  once  he  shook 
his  fist  menacingly ;  again  there  was  a  wail  of  protest 
from  the  crowd — women  were  wringing  their 
hands • 

"  He  is  demanding  more  than  the  village  can  sup 
ply,"  remarked  the  girl.  "  That  is  not  surprising," 
she  added,  with  a  bitter  smile.  "  They  will  always 


i8o       THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

demand  more  than  can  be  supplied.    But  come;  we 
must  be  getting  on." 

Stewart  would  have  liked  to  see  the  end  of  the 
drama,  but  he  followed  his  companion  over  the  wall 
at  the  side  of  the  road,  and  then  around  the  village 
and  along  the  rough  hillside.  Suddenly  from  the 
houses  below  arose  a  hideous  tumult — shouts,  curses, 
the  smashing  of  glass — and  in  a  moment,  a  flood  of 
people,  wailing,  screaming,  shaking  their  fists  in  the 
air,  burst  from  the  town  and  swept  along  the  road  in 
the  direction  of  Herve. 

'  They  would  better  have  given  all  that  was  de 
manded,"  said  the  girl,  looking  down  at  them. 
"  Now  they  will  be  made  to  serve  as  an  example  to 
other  villages — they  will  lose  everything — even  their 
houses — see !  " 

Following  the  direction  of  her  pointing  finger, 
Stewart  saw  a  black  cloud  of  smoke  bulging  up  from 
one  end  of  the  village. 

"  But  surely,"  he  gasped,  "  they're  not  burning  it ! 
They  wouldn't  dare  do  that !  " 

"Why  not?" 

"Isn't  looting  prohibited  by  the  rules  of  war?" 

"  Certainly — looting  and  the  destruction  of  prop 
erty  of  non-combatants." 

"  Well,  then " 


FORTUNE  FROWNS  181 

But  he  stopped,  staring  helplessly.  The  cloud  of 
smoke  grew  in  volume,  and  below  it  could  be  seen 
red  tongues  of  flame.  There  before  him  was  the 
hideous  reality — and  he  suddenly  realized  how  fu 
tile  it  was  to  make  laws  for  anything  so  essentially 
lawless  as  war,  or  to  expect  niceties  of  conduct  from 
men  thrown  back  into  a  state  of  barbarism. 

"  What  do  the  rules  of  war  matter  to  a  nation 
which  considers  treaties  mere  scraps  of  paper?" 
asked  the  girl,  in  a  hard  voice.  "  Their  very  pres 
ence  here  in  Belgium  is  a  violation  of  the  rules  of 
war.  Besides,  it  is  the  German  theory  that  war 
should  be  ruthless — that  the  enemy  must  be  intimi 
dated,  ravaged,  despoiled  in  every  possible  way. 
They  say  that  the  more  merciless  it  is,  the  briefer 
it  will  be.  It  is  possible  that  they  are  not  altogether 
wrong." 

"  True,"  muttered  Stewart.  "  But  it  is  a  heart 
less  theory." 

"  War  is  a  heartless  thing,"  commented  his  com 
panion,  turning  away.  "  It  is  best  not  to  think  too 
much  about  it.  Come — we  must  be  going  on." 

They  pushed  forward  again,  keeping  the  road, 
with  its  rabble  of  frenzied  fugitives,  at  their  right. 
It  was  a  wild  and  beautiful  country,  and  under  other 
circumstances,  Stewart  would  have  gazed  in  admir- 


THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

ing  wonder  at  its  rugged  cliffs,  its  deep  precipitous 
valleys,  its  thickly- wooded  hillsides;  but  now  these 
appeared  to  him  only  as  so  many  obstacles  between 
him  and  safety. 

At  last  the  valley  opened  out,  and  below  them  they 
saw  the  clustered  roofs  of  another  village,  which 
could  only  be  Herve.  Around  it  were  broad  pastures 
and  fields  of  yellow  grain,  and  suddenly  the  girl 
caught  Stewart  by  the  arm. 

"  Look !  "  she  said,  and  pointed  to  the  field  lying 
nearest  them. 

A  number  of  old  men,  women,  and  children  were 
cutting  the  grain,  tying  it  into  sheaves,  and  piling  the 
sheaves  into  stacks,  under  the  supervision  of  four 
men.  Those  four  men  were  clothed  in  greenish-gray 
and  carried  rifles  in  their  hands !  The  invaders  were 
stripping  the  grain  from  the  fields  in  order  to  feed 
their  army ! 

As  he  contemplated  this  scene,  Stewart  felt,  mixed 
with  his  horror  and  detestation,  a  sort  of  unwilling 
admiration.  Evidently,  as  his  companion  had  said, 
when  Germany  made  war,  she  made  war.  She  was 
ruthlessly  thorough.  She  allowed  no  sentiment,  no 
feeling  of  pity,  no  weakening  compassion,  to  inter 
fere  between  her  and  her  goal.  She  went  to  war 
with  but  one  purpose:  to  win;  and  she  was  deter- 


FORTUNE  FROWNS  183 

mined  to  win,  no  matter  what  the  cost!  Stewart 
shivered  at  the  thought.  Whether  she  won  or  lost, 
how  awful  that  cost  must  be! 

The  fugitives  went  on  again  at  last,  working  their 
way  around  the  village,  keeping  always  in  the  shelter 
of  the  woods  along  the  hillsides,  and  after  a  weary 
journey,  came  out  on  the  other  side  above  the  line 
of  the  railroad.  A  sentry,  with  fixed  bayonet,  stood 
guard  over  a  solitary  engine;  except  for  him,  the 
road  seemed  quite  deserted.  For  half  a  mile  they 
toiled  along  over  the  rough  hillside  above  it  without 
seeing  anyone  else. 

"  We  can't  keep  this  up,"  said  Stewart,  flinging 
himself  upon  the  ground.  "  We  shall  have  to  take 
to  the  road  if  we  are  to  make  any  progress.  Do  you 
think  we'd  better  risk  it?  " 

"  Let  us  watch  it  for  a  while,"  the  girl  suggested, 
so  they  sat  and  watched  it  and  munched  their  sand 
wiches,  and  talked  in  broken  snatches.  Ten  minutes 
passed,  but  no  one  came  in  sight. 

"  It  seems  quite  safe,"  she  said  at  last,  and  to 
gether  they  made  their  way  down  to  it. 

"  The  next  village  is  Fleron,"  said  Stewart,  con 
sulting  his  rough  map.  "  It  is  apparently  about  four 
miles  from  here.  Liege  is  about  ten  miles  further. 
Can  we  make  it  to-night?  " 


1 84         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

"  We  must !  "  said  the  girl,  fiercely.    "  Come !  " 

The  road  descended  steadily  along  the  valley  of  a 
pretty  river,  closed  in  on  either  side  by  densely- 
wooded  hills.  Here  and  there  among  the  trees,  they 
caught  glimpses  of  white  villas;  below  them,  along 
the  river,  there  was  an  occasional  cluster  of  houses ; 
but  they  saw  few  people.  Either  the  inhabitants  of 
this  land  had  fled  before  the  enemy,  or  were  keep* 
ing  carefully  indoors  out  of  his  way. 

Once  the  fugitives  had  an  alarm,  for  a  hand-car, 
manned  by  a  squad  of  German  soldiers,  came  spin 
ning  past;  but  fortunately  Stewart  heard  it  singing 
along  the  rails  in  time  to  pull  his  companion  into  a 
clump  of  underbrush.  A  little  later,  along  the  high 
way  by  the  river,  they  saw  a  patrol  of  Uhlans  riding, 
and  then  they  came  to  Fleron  and  took  to  the  hills  to 
pass  around  it.  Here,  too,  clouds  of  black  smoke  hung 
heavy  above  certain  of  the  houses,  which,  for  some 
reason,  had  been  made  the  marks  of  German  re 
prisals;  and  once,  above  the  trees  to  their  right,  they 
savr  a  column  of  smoke  drifting  upward,  marking 
the  destruction  of  some  isolated  dwelling. 

The  sun  was  sinking  toward  the  west  by  the  time 
they  again  reached  the  railroad,  and  they  were  both 
desperately  weary;  but  neither  had  any  thought  of 
rest.  The  shadows  deepened  rapidly  among  the  hills, 


FORTUNE  FROWNS  185 

but  the  darkness  was  welcome,  for  it  meant  added 
safety.  By  the  time  they  reached  Bois  de  Breux, 
night  had  come  in  earnest,  so  they  made  only  a  short 
detour,  and  were  soon  back  on  the  railroad  again, 
with  scarcely  five  miles  to  go.  For  an  hour  longer 
they  plodded  on  through  the  darkness,  snatching  a 
few  minutes'  rest  once  or  twice ;  too  weary  to  talk, 
or  to  look  to  right  or  left. 

Then,  as  they  turned  a  bend  in  the  road,  they 
drew  back  in  alarm;  for  just  ahead  of  them,  close 
beside  the  track,  a  br^ht  fire  was  burning,  lighting 
up  the  black  entrance  of  a  tunnel,  before  which  stood 
a  sentry  leaning  on  his  rifle.  Five  or  six  other 
soldiers,  wearing  flat  fatigue  caps,  were  lolling  about 
the  fire,  smoking  and  talking  in  low  tones. 

Stewart  surveyed  them  curiously.  They  were  big, 
good-humored-looking  fellows,  fathers  of  families 
doubtless — honest  men  with  kindly  hearts.  It 
seemed  absurd  to  suppose  that  such  men  as  these 
would  loot  villages  and  burn  houses  and  outrage 
women;  it  seemed  absurd  that  anyone  should  fear 
them  or  hide  from  them.  Stewart,  with  a  feeling 
that  all  this  threat  of  war  was  a  chimera,  had  an  im 
pulse  to  go  forward  boldly  and  join  them  beside 
the  fire.  He  was  sure  they  would  welcome  him,  make 
a  place  for  him • 


1 86         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

"  Wer  da?  "  called,  sharply,  a  voice  behind  him, 
and  he  spun  around  to  find  himself  facing  a  leveled 
rifle,  behind  which  he  could  see  dimly  the  face  of  a 
man  wearing  a  spiked  helmet — a  patrol,  no  dcubt.  \ 
who  had  seen  them  as  they  stood  carelessly  outlined.! 
against  the  fire,  and  who  had  crept  upon  them  un 
heard. 

"  We  are  friends,"  Stewart  answered,  hastily. 

The  soldier  motioned  them  forward  to  the  fire. 
The  men  there  had  caught  up  their  rifles  at  the  sound 
of  the  challenge,  and  stood  peering  anxiously  out  into 
the  darkness.  But  when  the  two  captives  came  within 
the  circle  of  light  cast  by  the  fire,  they  stacked  their 
guns  and  sat  down  again.  Evidently  they  saw  noth 
ing  threatening  in  the  appearance  of  either  Stewart 
or  his  companion. 

Their  captor  added  his  gun  to  the  stack  and  mo 
tioned  them  to  sit  down.  Then  he  doffed  his  heavy 
helmet  with  evident  relief  and  hung  it  on  his  rifle,' 
got  out  a  soft  cap  like  the  others',  and  finally  sat 
down  opposite  his  prisoners  and  looked  at  them 
closely. 

"  What  are  you  doing  here  ?  "  he  demanded  in 
German. 

"  We  are  trying  to  get  through  to  Brussels,"  an 
swered  Stewart,  in  the  best  German  he  could  muster. 


FORTUNE  FROWNS  187 

"  I  have  not  much  German.  Do  you  speak  Eng 
lish?" 

"  No.  Are  you  English  ?  "  And  the  blue  eyes 
glinted  with  an  unfriendly  light  which  Stewart  was 
at  a  loss  to  understand. 

"  We  are  Americans,"  and  Stewart  saw  with  re 
lief  that  the  man's  face  softened  perceptibly.  On 
the  chance  that,  if  the  soldier  could  not  speak  Eng 
lish,  neither  could  he  read  it,  he  impressively  pro 
duced  his  passport.  "  Here  is  our  safe-conduct  from 
our  Secretary  of  State,"  he  said.  "  You  will  see 
that  it  is  sealed  with  the  seal  of  the  United  States. 
My  brother  and  I  were  passed  at  Herbesthal,  but 
could  find  no  conveyance  and  started  to  walk.  We 
lost  our  way,  but  stumbled  upon  the  railroad  some 
miles  back  and  decided  to  follow  it  until  we  came  to 
a  village.  How  far  away  is  the  nearest  village  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know,"  said  the  man,  curtly;  but  he 
took  the  passport  and  stared  at  it  curiously.  Then 
he  passed  it  around  the  circle,  and  it  finally  came 
back  to  its  owner,  who  placed  it  in  his  pocket. 

"  You  find  it  correct  ?  "  Stewart  inquired. 

"  I  know  nothing  about  it.  You  must  wait  until 
our  officer  arrives." 

Stewart  felt  a  sickening  sensation  at  his  heart, 
but  he  managed  to  smile. 


i88        THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

'"  He  will  not  be  long,  I  hope,"  he  said.  "  We  are 
very  tired  and  hungry." 

"  He  will  not  be  long,"  answered  the  other, 
shortly,  and  got  out  a  long  pipe,  but  Stewart  stopped 
him  with  a  gesture. 

"  Try  one  of  these,"  he  said,  quickly,  and  brought 
out  his  handful  of  cigars  and  passed  them  around. 

The  men  grinned  their  thanks,  and  were  soon 
puffing  away  with  evident  enjoyment.  But  to  Stew 
art  the  single  cigar  he  had  kept  for  himself  seemed 
strangely  savorless.  He  glanced  at  his  companion. 
She  was  sitting  hunched  up,  her  arms  about  her 
knees,  staring  thoughtfully  at  the  fire. 

"  This  man  says  we  must  wait  here  until  their 
officer  arrives,"  he  explained  in  English.  "  My 
brother  does  not  understand  German,"  he  added  to 
the  men. 

"  How  stupid ! "  said  the  girl.  "  I  am  so  tired 
and  stiff!" 

"  It  is  no  use  to  argue  with  them,  I  suppose?  " 

"  No.  They  will  refuse  to  decide  anything  for 
themselves.  They  rely  wholly  upon  their  officers." 

She  rose  wearily,  stretched  herself,  stamped  her 
foot  as  if  it  were  asleep,  and  then  sat  down  again 
and  closed  her  eyes.  She  looked  very  young  and 
fragile,  and  was  shivering  from  head  to  foot. 


FORTUNE  FROWNS  189 

"  My  brother  is  not  strong,"  said  Stewart  to  the 
attentive  group.  "  I  fear  all  this  hardship  and  ex 
posure  will  be  more  than  he  can  bear." 

One  of  the  men,  with  a  gesture  of  sympathy,  rose, 
unrolled  his  blanket,  and  spread  it  on  the  bank  be 
hind  the  fire. 

"  Let  the  young  man  lie  down  there,"  he 
said. 

"  Oh,  thank  you !  "  cried  Stewart.  "  Come, 
Tommy,"  he  added,  touching  the  girl  on  the  arm. 
"  Suppose  you  lie  down  till  the  officer  comes." 

She  opened  her  eyes,  saw  the  blanket,  nodded 
sleepily,  and,  still  shivering,  followed  Stewart  to  it, 
lay  down,  permitted  him  to  roll  her  in  it,  and  ap 
parently  dropped  off  to  sleep  on  the  instant.  Stewart 
returned  to  the  circle  about  the  fire,  nodding  his 
satisfaction.  They  all  smiled,  as  men  do  who  have 
performed  a  kind  action. 

But  Stewart,  though  doing  his  best  to  keep  a  placid 
countenance,  was  far  from  easy  in  his  mind.  One 
thing  was  certain — they  must  escape  before  the  offi 
cer  arrived.  He,  no  doubt,  would  be  able  both  to  read 
and  speak  English,  and  the  passport  would  betray 
them  at  once.  For  without  question,  a  warning  had 
been  flashed  from  headquarters  to  every  patrol  to 
arrest  the  holder  of  that  passport,  and  to  send  him 


THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

and  his  companion,  under  close  guard,  back  to  Her- 
besthal.  But  how  to  escape! 

Stewart  glanced  carefully  about  him,  cursing  the 
carelessness  that  had  brought  them  into  this  trap, 
the  imbecility  which  had  held  them  staring  at  this 
outpost,  instead  of  taking  instantly  to  the  woods,  as 
they  should  have  done.  They  deserved  to  be  cap 
tured  !  Nevertheless 

The  sentry  was  pacing  slowly  back  and  forth  at 
the  tunnel  entrance,  fifteen  yards  away;  the  other 
men  were  lolling  about  the  fire,  half -asleep.  It 
would  be  possible,  doubtless,  to  bolt  into  the  darkness 
before  they  could  grab  their  rifles,  so  there  \vas  only 
the  sentry  to  fear,  and  the  danger  from  him  would 
not  be  very  great.  But  it  would  be  necessary  to 
keep  to  the  track  for  some  distance,  because,  where 
it  dropped  into  the  tunnel,  its  sides  were  precipices 
impossible  to  scale  in  the  darkness.  The  danger, 
then,  lay  in  the  fact  that  the  men  might  have  time 
to  snatch  up  their  rifles  and  empty  them  along  the 
track  before  the  fugitives  would  be  able  to  leave  it. 
But  it  was  a  danger  which  must  be  faced — there  was" 
no  other  way.  Once  in  the  woods,  they  would  be 
safe. 

Stewart,  musing  over  the  situation  with  eyes  half- 
closed,  recalled  dim  memories  of  daring  escapes 


FORTUNE  FROWNS  191 

from  Indians  and  outlaws,  described  in  detail  in  the 
blocd-and-thunder  reading  of  his  youth.  There  was 
always  one  ruse  which  never  failed — just  as  the  pur 
suers  were  about  to  fire,  the  fugitive  would  fling  him 
self  flat  on  his  face,  and  the  bullets  would  fly  harm 
lessly  over  him;  then  he  would  spring  to  his  feet 
and  go  safely  on  his  way.  Stewart  smiled  to  re 
member  how  religiously  he  had  believed  in  that 
stratagem,  and  how  he  had  determined  to  practice 
it,  if  ever  need  arose !  He  had  never  contemplated 
the  possibility  of  having  to  flee  from  a  squad  of 
men  armed  with  magazine  rifles,  capable  of  firing 
twenty-five  shots  a  minute ! 

Then  he  shook  these  thoughts  away;  there  was 
no  time  to  be  lost.  He  must  warn  his  companion, 
for  they  must  make  the  dash  at  the  same  instant. 
He  glanced  toward  where  she  lay  in  the  shadow  of 
the  cliff,  and  saw  that  she  was  turning  restlessly 
from  side  to  side,  as  though  fevered.  With  real 
anxiet}^,  he  hastened  to  her,  knelt  beside  her,  and 
placed  his  hand  gently  on  her  forehead.  At  the 
touch,  she  opened  her  eyes  and  stared  dazedly  up  at 
him. 

"Ask  for  some  water,"  she  said,  weakly;  and 
then,  in  the  same  tone,  "  we  must  flee  at  the  mo 
ment  they  salute  their  officer." 


192.        THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

Stewart  turned  to  the  soldiers,  who  were  listen 
ing  with  inquiring  faces. 

"  My  brother  is  feverish,"  he  explained.  "  He 
asks  for  a  drink  of  water." 

One  of  the  men  was  instantly  on  his  feet,  un 
screwing  his  canteen  and  holding  it  to  the  eager 
lips  while  Stewart  supported  his  comrade's  head. 
She  drank  eagerly  and  then  dropped  back  with  a 
sigh  of  satisfaction,  and  closed  her  eyes. 

"  He  will  go  to  sleep  now,"  said  Stewart. 
'  Thank  you,"  and  he  himself  took  a  drink  from  the 
proffered  flask. 

He  was  surprised  to  find  how  cool  and  fresh  the 
water  tasted,  and  when  he  looked  at  the  flask  more 
closely,  he  saw  that  it  was  made  like  a  Thermos 
bottle,  with  outer  and  inner  shells.  He  handed  it 
back  to  its  owner  with  a  nod  of  admiration. 

"  That  is  very  clever,"  he  said.  "  Everything 
seems  to  have  been  thought  of." 

"  Yes,  everything,"  agreed  the  other.  "  No  army 
is  equipped  like  ours.  I  am  told  that  the  French 
are  in  rags." 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Stewart,  cautiously,  "  I  have 
never  seen  them." 

"  And  their  army  is  not  organized;  we  shall  be  in 
Paris  before  they  can  mobilize.  It  will  be  1870 


FORTUNE  FROWNS  193 

over  again.  The  war  will  be  ended  in  two  or  three 
months.  It  has  been  promised  us  that  we  shall  be 
home  again  for  Christmas  without  fail." 

"I  hope  you  will,"  Stewart  agreed;  and  there 
was  a  moment's  silence.  "  How  much  longer  shall 
we  have  to  wait?  "  he  asked,  at  last. 

"  Our  officer  should  be  here  at  any  moment." 

"  It  is  absolutely  necessary  that  we  wait  for 
him?" 

"Yes,  absolutely." 

"  We  are  very  hungry,"  Stewart  explained. 

The  soldier  pondered  for  a  moment,  and  then 
rose  to  his  feet. 

"  I  think  I  can  give  you  food,"  he  said.  "  It  is 
permitted  to  give  food,  is  it  not?"  he  asked  his 
comrades;  and  when  they  nodded,  he  opened  his 
knapsack  and  took  out  a  package  of  hard,  square 
biscuits  and  a  thick  roll  of  sausage.  He  cut  the 
sausage  into  generous  slices,  while  Stewart  watched 
with  watering  mouth,  placed  a  slice  on  each  of  the 
biscuits,  and  passed  them  over. 

"  Splendid!  "  cried  Stewart.  "  I  don't  know  how, 
to  thank  you.  But  at  least  I  can  pay  you,"  and  he 
dove  into  his  pocket  and  produced  a  ten-mark  piece 
— his  last.  The  soldier  shook  his  head.  "  It  is  for 
the  whole  squad,"  added  Stewart,  persuasively. 


i94        THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

"  You  will  be  needing  tobacco  some  day,  and  this 
will  come  in  handy !  " 

The  soldier  smiled,  took  the  little  coin,  and  placed 
it  carefully  in  his  pocket. 

"  You  are  right  about  the  tobacco,"  he  said.  "  I 
thank  you." 

He  sat  down  again  before  the  fire,  while  Stewart 
hastened  to  his  companion  and  dropped  to  his  knees 
beside  her. 

"  See  what  I've  got !  "  he  cried.    "  Food !  " 

She  opened  her  eyes,  struggled  to  a  sitting  pos 
ture,  and  held  out  an  eager  hand.  A  moment  later, 
they  were  both  munching  the  sausage  and  biscuits  as 
though  they  had  never  tasted  anything  so  delicious — 
as,  indeed,  they  never  had ! 

"  Oh,  how  good  that  was ! "  she  said,  when  the 
last  crumb  was  swallowed,  and  she  waved  her  thanks 
to  the  watching  group  about  the  fire.  "  Remember," 
she  added,  in  a  lower  tone,  as  she  sank  back  upon 
her  elbow,  "  the  instant " 

She  stopped,  staring  toward  the  tunnel,  one  hand 
grasping  the  blanket. 

Stewart,  following  her  look,  saw  the  sentry 
stiffen,  turn  on  his  heel,  and  hold  his  rifle  rigidly  in 
front  of  him,  as  a  tall  figure,  clad  in  a  long  gray  coat 
and  carrying  an  electric  torch,  stepped  out  of  the 


FORTUNE  FROWNS  195 

darkness  of  the  tunnel.  At  the  same  instant,  the 
men  about  the  fire  sprang  to  their  feet. 

"  Now ! "  cried  the  girl,  and  threw  back  the 
blanket. 

In  an  instant,  hand  in  hand,  they  had  glided  into 
the  darkness. 


CHAPTER  XI 
THE  NIGHT  ATTACK 

A  SAVAGE  voice  behind  them  shouted,  "  Halt !  "  and 
then  a  bullet  sang  past  and  a  rifle  went  off  with  a 
noise  like  a  cannon — or  so  it  seemed  to  Stewart; 
then  another  and  another.  It  was  the  sentry,  of 
course,  pumping  bullets  after  them.  Stewart's  flesh 
crept  at  the  thought  that  any  instant  might  bring 
a  volley,  which  would  sweep  the  track  with  a  storm 
of  lead.  If  he  could  only  look  back,  if  he  only 
knew — — • 

Suddenly  the  girl  pulled  him  to  the  right,  and  he 
saw  there  was  a  cleft  in  the  steep  bank.  Even  as 
they  sprang  into  it,  the  volley  came,  and  then  a 
second  and  a  third,  and  then  the  sound  of  shouting 
voices  and  running  feet. 

Savagely  the  fugitives  fought  their  way  upward, 
over  rocks,  through  briars — scratched,  torn,  bleed 
ing,  panting  for  breath.  Even  in  the  daytime  it 
would  have  been  a  desperate  scramble ;  now  it  soon 
became  a  sort  of  horrid  nightmare,  which  might  end 

196 


THE  NIGHT  ATTACK  197 

at  any  instant  at  the  bottom  of  a  cliff.  More  than 
once  Stewart  told  himself  that  he  could  not  go  on, 
that  his  heart  would  burst  if  he  took  another  step — 
and  yet  he  did  go  on,  up  and  up,  close  behind  his 
comrade,  who  seemed  borne  on  invisible  wings. 

At  last  she  stopped  and  pressed  close  against  him. 
He  could  feel  how  her  heart  was  thumping. 

"  Wait !  "  she  panted.     "  Listen !  " 

Not  a  sound  broke  the  stillness  of  the  wood. 

"  I  think  we  are  safe,"  she  said.  "  Let  us  rest  a 
while." 

They  sat  down,  side  by  side,  on  a  great  rock. 
Gradually  their  gasping  breath  slackened  and  the 
pounding  of  their  hearts  grew  quieter. 

"  I  have  lost  my  cap,"  she  said,  at  last.  "  A 
branch  snatched  it  off  and  I  did  not  dare  to  stop." 

Stewart  put  his  hand  to  his  head  and  found  that 
his  hat  also  was  gone.  Until  that  instant  he  had  not 
missed  it. 

"  I  feel  as  if  I  had  been  flayed,"  he  said.  "  Those 
briars  were  downright  savage.  It  was  lucky  we 
didn't  break  a  leg — or  stop  a  bullet." 

"  We  must  not  run  such  risks  again.  We  must 
keep  clear  of  roads — the  Germans  seem  to  be  every 
where.  Let  us  keep  on  until  we  reach  the  crest 
of  this  hill,  and  then  we  can  rest  till  daylight." 


198        THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

"All  right,"  agreed  Stewart.  "Where  thou 
goest,  I  will  go,  But  please  remember  I  don't  travel 
on  angelic  wings  as  you  do,  but  on  very  human  legs ! 
And  they  are  very  tired !  " 

"  So  are  mine !  "  she  laughed.  "  But  we  cannot 
remain  here,  can  we?  " 

"  No,"  said  Stewart,  "  I  suppose  not,"  and  he 
arose  and  followed  her. 

The  ground  grew  less  rough  as  they  proceeded, 
and  at  last  they  came  to  the  end  of  the  wood.  Over 
head,  a  full  moon  was  sinking  toward  the  west — a 
moon  which  lighted  every  rock  and  crevice  of  the 
rolling  meadow  before  them,  and  which  seemed  to 
them,  after  the  darkness  of  the  woods  and  the  val 
leys,  as  brilliant  as  the  sun. 

"  We  must  be  nearly  at  the  top,"  said  the  girl. 
"  These  hills  almost  all  have  meadows  on  their  sum 
mits  where  the  peasants  pasture  their  flocks." 

And  so  it  proved,  for  beyond  the  meadow  was 
another  narrow  strip  of  woodland,  and  as  they  came 
to  its  farther  edge,  the  fugitives  stopped  with  a 
gasp  of  astonishment. 

Below  them  stretched  a  broad  valley,  and  as  far  as 
the  eye  could  reach,  it  was  dotted  with  flaring  fires. 

"The  German  army! "  said  the  girl,  and  the  two 
stood  staring. 


THE  NIGHT  ATTACK  199 

Evidently  a  countless  host  lay  camped  below 
them,  but  no  sound  reached  them,  save  the  occasional 
rumble  of  a  train  along  some  distant  track.  The 
Kaiser's  legions  were  sleeping  until  the  dawn  should 
give  the  signal  for  the  advance — an  advance  which 
would  be  as  the  sweep  of  an  avalanche,  hideous,  ir 
resistible,  remorseless,  crushing  everything  in  its 
path. 

"  Oh,  look,  look !  "  cried  the  girl,  and  caught  him 
by  the  arm. 

To  the  west,  seemingly  quite  near,  a  flash  of 
flame  gleamed  against  the  sky,  then  another  and  an 
other  and  another,  and  in  a  moment  a  savage  rumble 
as  of  distant  thunder  drifted  to  their  ears. 

"  What  is  it?  "  asked  Stewart,  staring  at  the  ever- 
increasing  bursts  of  flame.  "  Not  a  battle,  surely!  " 

"  It  is  the  forts  at  Liege !  "  cried  the  girl,  hoarsely. 
"  The  Germans  are  attacking  them,  and  they  resist ! 
Oh,  brave  little  Belgium !  " 

The  firing  grew  more  furious,  and  then  a  battery 
of  searchlights  began  to  play  over  the  hillside  before 
the  nearest  fort,  and  they  could  dimly  see  its  outline 
on  the  hilltop — strangely  like  a  dreadnaught,  with 
its  wireless  mast  and  its  armored  turrets  vomiting 
flame.  Above  it,  from  time  to  time,  a  shell  from  the 
German  batteries  burst  like  a  greenish-white  rocket, 


200        THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

but  it  was  evident  that  the  assailants  had  not  yet  got 
their  guns  up  in  any  number. 

Then,  suddenly,  amid  the  thunder  of  the  cannon, 
there  surged  a  vicious  undercurrent  of  sound  which 
Stewart  knew  must  be  the  reports  of  machine-guns, 
or  perhaps  of  rifles;  and  all  along  the  slope  below 
the  fort  innumerable  little  flashes  stabbed  upward 
toward  the  summit.  Surely  infantry  would  never 
attack  such  a  position,  Stewart  told  himself;  and 
then  he  held  his  breath,  for,  full  in  the  glare  of  the 
searchlights,  he  could  see  what  seemed  to  be  a  tidal 
wave  sweeping  up  the  hill. 

A  very  fury  of  firing  came  from  the  fort,  yet  still 
the  wave  swept  on.  As  it  neared  the  fort,  what 
seemed  to  be  another  wave  swept  down  to  meet  it. 
The  firing  slackened,  almost  stopped,  and  Stewart, 
his  blood  pounding  in  his  temples,  knew  that  the 
struggle  was  hand  to  hand,  breast  to  breast.  It 
lasted  but  a  minute;  then  the  attacking  tide  flowed 
back  down  the  hill,  and  again  the  machine-guns  of 
the  fort  took  up  that  deadly  chorus. 

"  They  have  been  driven  back !  "  gasped  the  girl. 
"  Thank  God !  the  Germans  have  been  driven 
back!" 

How  many,  Stewart  wondered,  were  lying  out 
there  dead  on  the  hillside?  How  many  homes  had 


THE  NIGHT  ATTACK  201 

been  rendered  fatherless  in  those  few  desperate  mo 
ments?  And  this  was  but  the  first  of  a  thousand 
such  charges — the  first  of  a  thousand  such  moments! 
There,  before  his  eyes,  men  had  killed  each  other — 
for  what?  The  men  in  the  forts  were  defending 
> their  Fatherland  from  invasion — they  were  fighting 
for  liberty  and  independence.  That  was  understand 
able — it  was  even  admirable.  But  those  others — the 
men  in  the  spiked  helmets — what  were  they  fighting 
for?  To  destroy  liberty?  To  wrest  independence 
from  a  proud  little  people  ?  Surely  no  man  of  honor 
would  fight  for  that !  No,  it  must  be  for  something 
else — for  some  ideal — for  some  ardent  sense  of  duty, 
strangely  twisted,  perhaps,  but  none  the  less  fierce 
and  urgent ! 

Again  the  big  guns  in  the  armored  turrets  were 
bellowing  forth  their  wrath;  and  then  the  search 
lights  stabbed  suddenly  up  into  the  sky,  sweeping 
this  way  and  that. 

"  They  fear  an  airship  attack !  "  breathed  the 
girl,  and  she  and  Stewart  stood  staring  up  into  the 
night. 

Shells  from  the  German  guns  began  again  to  burst 
about  the  fort,  but  its  own  guns  were  silent,  and  it 
lay  there  crouching  as  if  in  terror.  Only  its  search 
lights  swept  back  and  forth. 


202        THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

Suddenly  a  gun  spoke — they  could  see  the  flash 
of  its  discharge,  seemingly  straight  up  into  the  air; 
then  a  second  and  a  third;  and  then  the  search 
lights  caught  the  great  bulk  of  a  Zeppelin  and  held  it 
clearly  outlined  as  it  swept  across  the  sky.  There 
was  a  furious  burst  of  firing,  but  the  ship  sped  on 
unharmed,  passed  beyond  the  range  of  the  search 
lights,  blotted  out  the  setting  moon  for  an  instant, 
and  was  gone. 

"  It  did  not  dare  pass  over  the  fort,"  said  the  girl. 
"  It  was  flying  too  low.  Perhaps  it  will  come  back 
at  a  greater  altitude.  I  have  seen  them  at  the  ma 
neuvers  in  Alsace — frightful  things,  moving  like  the 
wind." 

This  way  and  that  the  searchlights  swept  in  great 
arcs  across  the  heavens,  in  frenzied  search  for  this 
monster  of  the  air;  but  it  did  not  return.  Perhaps 
it  had  been  damaged  by  the  gunfire — or  perhaps, 
Stewart  told  himself  with  a  shiver,  it  was  speeding 
on  toward  Paris,  to  rain  terror  from  the  August 
sky! 

Gradually  the  firing  ceased ;  but  the  more  distant 
forts  were  using  their  searchlights,  too.  Seeing 
them  all  aroused  and  vigilant,  the  Germans  did  not 
attack  again;  their  surprise  had  failed;  now  they 
must  wait  for  their  heavy  guns. 


THE  NIGHT  ATTACK  203 

"Well,"  asked  Stewart,  at  last,  "what  now?" 

"  I  think  it  would  be  well  to  stay  here  till  morn 
ing — 'then  we  can  see  how  the  army  is  placed  and 
how  best  to  get  past  it.  It  is  evident  we  cannot  go 
on  to-night." 

"  I'm  deadly  tired,"  said  Stewart,  looking  about 
him  into  the  darkness,  "  but  I  should  like  a  softer  bed 
than  the  bare  ground." 

"  Let  us  go  to  the  edge  of  this  meadow,"  the  girl 
suggested.  "  Perhaps  we  shall  find  another  field  of 
grain." 

But  luck  was  against  them.  Beyond  the  meadow 
the  woods  began  again. 

"  The  meadow  is  better  than  the  woods,"  said 
Stewart.  "  At  least  it  has  some  grass  on  it — the 
woods  have  nothing  but  rocks !  " 

"  Let  us  stay  in  the  shelter  of  the  hedge.  Then, 
if  a  patrol  happens  into  the  field  before  we  are 
awake,  it  will  not  see  us.  Perhaps  they  will  at 
tempt  a  pursuit  in  the  morning.  They  will  guess 
that  we  have  headed  for  the  west." 

"  I  don't  think  there's  much  danger — it  would  be 
like  hunting  for  a  needle  in  a  haystack — in  a  dozen 
haystacks  !  But  won't  you  be  cold  ?  " 

"Oh,  no,"  she  protested,  quickly;  "the  night  is 
quite  warm.  Good-night,  my  friend." 


204        THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

"  Good-night,"  Stewart  answered,  and  withdrew  a 
few  steps  and  made  himself  as  comfortable  as  he 
could. 

,  There  were  irritating  bumps  in  the  ground  which 
.seemed  to  come  exactly  in  the  wrong  place;  but  he 
'finally  adjusted  himself,  and  lay  and  looked  up  at 
the  stars,  and  wondered  what  the  morrow  would 
bring  forth.  He  was  growing  a  little  weary  of  the 
adventure.  He  was  growing  weary  of  the  restraint 
which  the  situation  imposed  upon  him.  He  was  ach 
ing  to  take  this  girl  in  his  arms  and  hold  her  close, 
and  whisper  three  words — just  three! — into  her 
rosy  ear — but  to  do  that  now,  to  do  it  until  they 
were  in  safety,  until  she  had  no  further  need  of 
him,  would  be  a  cowardly  thing — a  cowardly  thing 
— a  cowardly 

He  was  awakened  by  a  touch  on  the  arm,  and 
opened  his  eyes  to  find  the  sun  high  in  the  heavens 
and  his  comrade  looking  down  at  him  with  face  al 
most  equally  radiant. 

"  I  did  not  like  to  wake  you,"  she  said,  "  but  it  is 
getting  late." 

Stewart  sat  up  and  rubbed  his  eyes  and  looked  at 
her  again.  Her  hair  was  neatly  combed,  her  face 
;was  fresh  and  shining,  her  hands  showed  some  ugly 
scratches  but  were  scrupulously  clean.  Evei  her 


THE  NIGHT  ATTACK  205, 

clothing,  though  torn  here  and  there,  had  evidently 
been  carefully  brushed. 

"  What  astounds  me,"  said  Stewart,  deliberately, 
"  is  how  you  do  it.  You  spend  the  first  half  of  the 
night  scrambling  over  rocks  and  through  briars,  and} 
the  second  half  sleeping  on  the  bare  ground,  and  you 
emerge  in  the  morning  as  fresh  and  radiant  as 
though  you  had  just  stepped  from  your  boudoir. 
I  wish  I  knew  the  secret." 

"  Come  and  I  will  show  you,"  she  said,  laugh 
ing  gayly,  and  she  led  him  away  into  the 
wood. 

Presently  he  heard  the  sound  of  falling  water, 
and  his  guide  brought  him  triumphantly  to  a  brook 
gurgling  over  mossy  rocks,  at  whose  foot  was  a 
shallow  basin. 

"  There  is  my  boudoir,"  she  said.  "  The  secret  of 
beauty  is  in  the  bath.  I  will  reconnoiter  the  neigh 
borhood  while  you  try  it  for  yourself." 

Stewart  flung  off  his  clothes,  splashed  joyously 
into  the  cold,  clear  water,  and  had  perhaps  the  most 
delicious  bath  of  his  life.  There  was  no  soap,  to 
be  sure,  but  much  may  be  done  by  persistent  rubbing; 
and  there  were  no  towels,  but  the  warm  wind  of  the 
morning  made  them  almost  unnecessary.  He  got 
back  into  his  clothes  again  with  a  sense  of  astonish- 


206         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

ing  well-being — except  for  a  most  persistent  gnaw 
ing  at  his  stomach. 

"  I  wonder  where  we  shall  breakfast  to-day  ?  "  he 
mused  as  he  laced  his  shoes.  "  Nowhere,  most  prob 
ably!  Oh,  well,  if  that  dear  girl  can  stand  it,  I 
oughtn't  to  complain !  " 

And  he  fell  to  thinking  of  her,  of  her  slim  grace, 
of  the  curve  of  her  red  lips 

"  Confound  it !  "  he  said.  "  I  can't  stand  it  much 
longer.  Friendship  is  all  very  well,  and  the  big 
brother  act  may  do  for  a  while — but  I  can't  keep  it 
up  forever,  and  what's  more,  I  won't !  " 

And  then  he  heard  her  calling,  in  the  clear,  high 
voice  he  had  grown  to  love. 

"  All  right !  "  he  shouted.    "  Come  along !  •' 

Presently  she  appeared  between  the  trees,  and  he 
watched  her  with  beating  heart — so  straight,  so  sup 
ple,  so  perfect  in  every  line. 

"  Did  the  magic  work  ?  "  she  inquired,  gayly. 

"  Partly ;  but  it  takes  more  than  water  to  remove 
a  two-days'  growth  of  beard,"  and  Stewart  ran  a 
rueful  finger  over  his  stubbly  chin.  "  But  can  it  be 
only  two  days  since  you  burst  into  my  room  at  the 
Kolner  Hof,  and  threw  your  arms  around  my  neck 
and  kissed  me!  " 

"Please  do  not  speak  of  it!"  she  pleaded,  with 


THE  NIGHT  ATTACK  207 

crimson  cheeks.  "  It  was  not  an  easy  thing  for  a 
girl  to  do;  but  that  spy  was  watching — so  I  nerved 
myself,  and " 

"  You  did  it  very  well,  indeed,"  he  said,  remi- 
niscently.  "  And  to  think  that  not  once  since 
then " 

"  Once  was  quite  enough." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  blame  you ;  I  know  I'm  not  an  at 
tractive  object.  People  will  be  taking  us  for  beauty 
and  the  beast." 

"  Neither  the  one  nor  the  other !  "  she  corrected. 

"  Well,  I  take  back  the  beast ;  but  not  the  beauty ! 
You  are  the  loveliest  thing  I  ever  saw,"  he  added, 
huskily.  "  The  very  loveliest !  " 

She  looked  down  at  him  for  an  instant,  and  her 
eyes  were  very  tender ;  then  she  looked  hastily  away. 

"  There  were  to  be  no  compliments  until  we  were 
out  of  Germany,"  she  reminded  him. 

"  We  are  out  of  Germany,"  he  said,  and  got  slowly 
to  his  feet,  his  eyes  on  fire. 

"  No,  no,"  she  protested,  backing  hastily  away 
from  him.  "  This  is  German  ground — let  me  show 
you !  "  and  she  ran  before  him  out  into  the  meadow. 
"  Look  down  yonder !  " 

Looking  down,  Stewart  saw  the  mighty  army 
which  had  been  mustered  to  crush  France. 


208         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

As  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  and  from  side  to 
side  of  the  broad  valley,  it  stretched — masses  of  men 
and  horses  and  wagons  and  artillery — masses  and 
masses — thousands  upon  thousands — mile  upon 

nile.    A  broad  highway  ran  along  either  side  of  the 

< 

river,  and  along  each  road  a  compact  host  moved 
steadily  westward  toward  Liege. 

Suddenly  from  the  west  came  the  thunder  of 
heavy  guns,  and  Stewart  knew  that  the  attack  had 
commenced  again.  Again  men  were  being  driven 
forward  to  death,  as  they  would  be  driven  day  after 
day,  until  the  end,  whatever  that  might  be.  And 
whatever  it  was,  not  a  single  dead  man  could  be 
brought  to  life;  not  a  single  maimed  man  made 
whole ;  not  a  single  dollar  of  the  treasure  which  was 
being  poured  out  like  a  flood  could  be  recovered.  It 
was  all  lost,  wasted,  worse  than  wasted,  since  it  was 
being  used  to  destroy,  not  to  create!  Incredible — • 
impossible — it  could  not  be!  Even  with  that 
mighty  army  beneath  his  eyes,  Stewart  told  him 
self  for  the  hundredth  time  that  it  could  not 
•be! 

The  voice  of  his  comrade  broke  in  upon  his 
thoughts. 

"  We  must  work  our  way  westward  along  the  hills 
until  we  come  to  the  Meuse,"  she  said.  "  This  is  the 


THE  NIGHT  ATTACK  209 

valley  of  the  Vesdre,  which  flows  into  the  Meuse,  so 
we  have  only  to  follow  it." 

"  Can't  you  prevail  upon  your  fairy  godmother 
to  provide  breakfast  first  ?  "  asked  Stewart.  "  I'm 
sure  you  have  only  to  wish  for  it,  and  the  table  would 
appear  laden  with  an  iced  melon,  bacon  and  eggs, 
crisp  rolls,  yellow  butter,  and  a  pot  of  coffee — I  think 
I  can  smell  the  coffee !  "  He  closed  his  eyes  and 
sniffed.  "  How  perfect  it  would  be  to  sit  right  here 
and  eat  that  breakfast  and  watch  the  Germans! 
Oh,  well,"  he  added,  as  she  turned  away,  "  if  not 
here,  then  somewhere  else.  Wait!  Isn't  that  a 
house  over  yonder  ?  " 

It  was  indeed  a  tiny  house  whose  gable  just 
showed  among  the  trees,  and  they  made  their  way 
cautiously  toward  it.  It  stood  at  the  side  of  a  small 
garden,  with  two  or  three  outbuildings  about  it,  and 
it  was  shielded  on  one  side  by  an  orchard.  No 
smoke  rose  from  the  chimney,  nor  was  there  any 
sign  of  life. 

And    then    Stewart,    who   had    been    crouching, 
behind  the  hedge  beside  his  companion,  looking  at 
all  this,  rose  suddenly  to  his  feet  and  started  for 
ward. 

"  Come  on,"  he  cried;  "  the  Germans  haven't  been 
this  way — there's  a  chicken,"  and  he  pointed  to 


210        THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

where  a  plump  hen  was  scratching  industriously 
under  the  hedge. 

"  Here  is  another  sign,"  said  the  girl,  as  they 
crossed  the  garden,  and  pointed  to  the  ground. 
"  The  potatoes  and  turnips  have  not  been  dug." 

"  It  must  be  here  we're  going  to  have  that  break 
fast  !  "  cried  Stewart,  and  knocked  triumphantly  at 
the  door. 

There  was  no  response  and  he  knocked  again. 
Then  he  tried  the  door,  but  it  was  locked.  There 
was  another  door  at  the  rear  of  the  house,  but  it  also 
was  locked.  There  were  also  three  windows,  but 
they  were  all  tightly  closed  with  wooden  shut 
ters. 

"  We've  got  to  have  something  to  eat,  that's  cer 
tain,"  said  Stewart,  doggedly.  "  We  shall  have  to 
break  in,"  and  he  looked  about  for  a  weapon  with 
which  to  attack  the  door. 

"  No,  no,"  protested  the  girl,  quickly.  "  That 
would  be  too  like  the  Uhlans !  Let  us  see  if  there  is 
not  some  other  way !  " 

"  What  other  way  can  there  be  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  there  is  none,"  she  answered;  "  and  if 
there  is  not,  we  will  go  on  our  way,  and  leave  this 
house  undamaged.  You  too  seem  to  have  been  poi 
soned  by  this  virus  of  war !  " 


THE  NIGHT  ATTACK  211 

"  I  only  know  I'm  starving!  "  said  Stewart.  "  If 
I've  been  poisoned  by  anything,  it's  by  the  virus  of 
appetite ! " 

"If  you  were  in  your  own  country,  and  found 
yourself  hungry,  would  you  break  into  the  first  house 
you  came  to  in  order  to  get  food?  "  she  demanded. 
"  Certainly  not — you  would  do  without  food  before 
you  would  do  that.  Is  it  not  so?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Stewart,  in  a  low  tone.  "  That  is  so. 
You  are  right." 

"  Perhaps  I  can  find  something,"  she  said,  more 
gently.  "  At  least  I  will  try.  Remain  here  for  a 
moment,"  and  she  hurried  away  toward  the  out 
buildings. 

Stewart  stared  out  into  the  road  and  reflected  how 
easy — how  inevitable  almost — it  was  to  become  a 
robber  among  thieves,  a  murderer  among  cut 
throats.  And  he  understood  how  it  happens  that 
in  war  even  the  kindliest  man  may  become  blood 
thirsty,  even  the  most  honest  a  looter  of  defenseless 
homes. 

"  See  what  I  have  found ! "  cried  a  voice,  and 
he  turned  to  see  the  girl  running  toward  him  with 
hands  outstretched.  In  each  hand  she  held  three 
eggs. 

"  Very  well   for  a  beginning,"  he  commented. 


2i  2j       THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

"  Now  for  the  melon,  the  bacon,  the  rolls,  the  butter, 
and  the  coffee !  " 

"  I  fear  that  those  must  wait,"  she  said.  "  Here 
is  your  breakfast,"  and  she  handed  him  three  of  the 
eggs. 

Stewart  looked  at  them  rather  blankly. 

"  Thanks !  "  he  said.    "  But  I  don't  quite  see " 

"  Then  watch !  " 

Sitting  down  on  the  doorstep,  she  cracked  one  of 
her  eggs  gently,  picked  away  the  loosened  bit  of 
shell  at  its  end,  and  put  the  egg  to  her  lips. 

"  Oh !  "  he  said.  "  So  that's  it !  "  and  sitting  down 
beside  her,  he  followed  her  example. 

He  had  heard  of  sucking  eggs,  but  he  had  never 
before  tried  it,  and  he  found  it  rather  difficult  and 
not  particularly  pleasant.  But  the  first  egg  undoubt 
edly  did  assuage  the  pangs  of  hunger;  the  second 
assuaged  them  still  more,  and  the  third  quite  ex 
tinguished  them.  In  fact,  he  felt  a  little  surfeited. 

"  Now,"  she  said,  "  for  the  dessert." 

"  Dessert !  "  protested  Stewart.  "  Is  there  des 
sert?  Why  didn't  you  tell  me?  I  never  heard  of 
dessert  for  breakfast,  and  I'm  afraid  I  haven't  room 
for  it!" 

"  It  will  keep !  "  she  assured  him,  and  leading  him 
around  the  larger  of  the  outbuildings,  she  showed 


THE  NIGHT  ATTACK  213 

him  a  tree  hanging  thick  with  ruddy  apples.  "  There 
are  our  supplies  for  the  campaign !  "  she  announced. 

"  My  compliments !  "  he  said.  "  You  would  make 
a  great  general." 

They  ate  one  or  two  apples  and  then  filled  their 
pockets.  From  ore  of  hers,  the  girl  drew  a  pipe 
and  pouch  of  tobacco. 

11  Would  you  not  like  to  smoke  ?  "  she  asked.  "  I 
have  been  told  that  a  pipe  is  a  great  comfort  in 
times  of  stress !  " 

And  Stewart,  calling  down  blessings  upon  hef 
head,  filled  up.  Never  had  tobacco  tasted  so  good, 
never  had  that  old  pipe  seemed  so  sweet,  as  when  he 
blew  out  the  first  puff  upon  the  morning  air. 

"  Salvation  Yeo  was  right,"  he  said.  "  As  a  hun 
gry  man's  food,  a  sad  man's  cordial,  a  chilly  man's 
fire,  there's  nothing  like  it  under  the  canopy  of 
heaven!  I  only  wish  you  could  enjoy  it  too!  " 

"  I  can  enjoy  your  enjoyment ! "  she  laughed  as 
they  set  happily  off  together. 

At  the  corner  of  the  wood,  Stewart  turned  for  a 
'last  look  at  the  house. 

"  How  glad  I  am  I  didn't  break  in !  "  he  said. 


CHAPTER  XII 

i 

AN  ARMY  IN  ACTION 

THE  sound  of  cannonading  grew  fiercer  and  fiercer, 
as  they  advanced,  and  the  undertone  of  rifle  fire 
more  perceptible.  It  was  evident  that  the  Germans 
were  rapidly  getting  more  and  more  guns  into  action, 
and  that  the  infantry  attack  was  also  being  hotly 
pressed.  Below  them  in  the  valley,  they  caught 
glimpses  from  time  to  time,  as  the  trees  opened 
out  a  little,  of  the  gray-clad  host  marching  steadily 
forward,  as  though  to  overwhelm  the  forts  by  sheer 
weight  of  numbers ;  and  then,  as  they  came  out  above 
a  rocky  bluff,  they  saw  a  new  sight — an  ear 
nest  that  the  Belgians  were  fighting  to  some  pur 
pose. 

In  a  level  field  beside  the  road  a  long  tent  had  been 
pitched,  and  above  it  floated  the  flag  of  the  Red  ' 
Cross.  Toward  it,  along  the  road,  came  slowly  a 
seemingly  endless  line  of  motor  ambulances.  Each 
of  them  in  turn  stopped  opposite  the  tent,  and  white- 
clad  assistants  lifted  out  the  stretchers,  each  with  its 


AN  ARMY  IN  ACTION  215 

huddled  occupant,  and  carried  them  quickly,  yet  very 
carefully,  inside  the  tent.  In  a  moment  the  bearers 
were  back  again,  pushed  the  empty  stretchers  into 
place,  and  the  ambulance  turned  and  sped  swiftly 
back  toward  the  battlefield.  Here,  too,  it  was  evi 
dent  that  there  was  admirable  and  smoothly-working 
system — a  system  which  alleviated,  so  far  as  it  was 
possible  to  do  so,  the  horror  and  the  suffering  of 
battle. 

Stewart  could  close  his  eyes  and  see  what  was 
going  on  inside  that  tent.  He  could  set  the  stripping 
away  of  the  clothing,  the  hasty  examination,  the 
sterilization  of  the  wound,  and  then,  if  an  operation 
was  necessary,  the  quick  preparation,  the  application 
of  the  ether-cone  and  the  swift,  unerring  flash  of 
the  surgeon's  knife. 

"  That's  where  I  should  be,"  he  said,  half  to  him 
self,  "  I  might  be  of  some  use  there!  "  And  then 
•  he  turned  his  eyes  eastward  along  the  road.  "  Great 
heavens !  Look  at  that  gun." 

Along  the  road  below  them  came  a  monstrous  can 
non,  mounted  on  a  low,  broad-wheeled  truck,  and 
drawn  by  a  mighty  tractor.  It  was  of  a  girth  so 
huge,  of  a  weight  evidently  so  tremendous,  that  it 
seemed  impossible  it  could  be  handled  at  all,  and  yet 
it  rolled  along  as  smoothly  as  though  it  were  the 


2i6         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

merest  toy.  Above  it  stretched  the  heavy  crane 
which  would  swing  it  into  the  air  and  place  it  gently 
on  the  trunnions  of  its  carriage.  Drawn  by  an 
other  tractor,  the  carriage  itself  came  close  behind — 
more  huge,  more  impressive  if  possible,  than  the  gun 
itself.  Its  tremendous  wheels  were  encircled  with 
heavy  blocks  of  steel,  linked  together  and  undulating 
along  the  road  for  all  the  world  like  a  monster  cater 
pillar;  its  massive  trail  seemed  forged  to  withstand 
the  shock  of  an  earthquake. 

"  So  that  is  the  surprise !  "  murmured  the  girl  be 
neath  her  breath. 

And  she  was  right.  This  was  the  surprise  which 
had  been  kept  so  carefully  concealed — the  Krupp 
contribution  to  the  war — the  largest  field  howitzer 
ever  built,  hurling  a  missile  so  powerful  that  neither 
steel  nor  stone  nor  armored  concrete  could  stand 
against  it. 

In  awed  silence,  the  two  fugitives  watched  this 
mighty  engine  of  destruction  pass  along  the  road  to 
its  appointed  task.  Behind  it  came  a  motor  truck 
carrying  its  crew,  and  then  a  long  train  of  ammuni 
tion  carts  filled  with  what  looked  like  wicker  bas 
kets — but  within  each  of  those  baskets  lay  a  shell 
weighing  a  thousand  pounds !  And  as  it  passed,  the 
troops,  opening  to  right  and  left,  cheered  it  wildly, 


"AN  ARMY  IN  ACTION  217 

for  to  them  it  meant  more  than  victory — it  meant 
that  they  would,  perhaps,  be  spared  the  desperate 
charge  with  its  almost  certain  death. 

Scarcely  had  the  first  gone  by,  when  a  second 

,'gun  came  rolling  along  the  road,   followed  by  its 

•'crew  and  its  ammunition-train;  and  then  a  third 

appeared,  seemingly  more  formidable  than  either  of 

the  others. 

"  These  Germans  are  certainly  a  wonderful  peo 
ple,"  said  Stewart,  following  the  three  monsters 
with  his  eyes  as  they  dwindled  away  westward  along 
the  road.  "  They  may  be  vain  and  arrogant  and 
self-confident;  apparently  they  haven't  much  regard 
for  the  rights  of  others.  But  they  are  thorough.  We 
must  give  them  credit  for  that !  They  are  prepared 
for  everything." 

"  Yes,"  agreed  his  companion;  "  for  everything 
except  one  thing." 

"And  that?" 

"  The  spirit  of  a  people  who  love  liberty.  Neither 
cannon  nor  armies  can  conquer  that !  The  German 
Staff  believed  that  Belgium  would  stand  aside  in 
fear." 

"  Surely  you  don't  expect  Belgium  to  win  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no !  But  every  day  she  holds  the  German 
army  here  is  a  battle  won  for  France.  Oh,  France 


2i 8         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

will  honor  Belgium  now!  See — the  army  has  been 
stopped.  It  is  no  longer  advancing !  " 

What  was  happening  to  the  westward  they  could 
not  see,  or  even  guess,  but  it  was  true  that  the  hel- 
meted  host  had  ceased  its  march,  had  broken  ranks, 
and  was  stacking  arms  and  throwing  off  its  accouter- 
ments  in  the  fields  along  the  road.  The  halt  was  to 
be  for  some  time,  it  seemed,  for  everywhere  camp- 
kitchens  were  being  hauled  into  place,  fires  started, 
food  unloaded. 

"Come  on!  come  on!"  urged  the  girl.  "We 
must  reach  the  Meuse  before  this  tide  rolls  across  it." 

They  pressed  forward  again  along  the  wooded 
hillside.  Twice  they  had  to  cross  deep  valleys  which 
ran  back  into  the  mountain,  and  once  they  had  a 
narrow  escape  from  a  cavalry  patrol  which  came 
cantering  past  so  close  upon  their  heeis  that  they 
had  barely  time  to  throw  themselves  into  the  under 
brush.  They  could  see,  too,  that  even  in  the  hills 
caution  was  necessary,  for  raiding  parties  had  evi 
dently  struck  up  into  them,  as  was  proved  by  an/ 
occasional  column  of  smoke  rising  from  a  burning 
house.  Once  they  came  upon  an  old  peasant  with  a 
face  wrinkled  like  a  withered  apple,  sitting  staring 
down  at  the  German  host,  so  preoccupied  that  he 
did  not  even  raise  his  eyes  as  they  passed.  And  at 


AN  ARMY  IN  ACTION  219 

last  they  came  out  above  the  broad  plain  where  the 
Vesdre  flows  into  the  Meuse. 

Liege,  with  its  towers  and  terraced  streets,  \vas 
concealed  from  them  by  a  bend  in  the  river  and  by  a 
bold  bluff  which  thrust  out  toward  it  from  the  east 
— a  bluff  crowned  by  a  turreted  fortress — perhaps 
the  same  they  had  seen  the  night  before — which  was 
vomiting  flame  and  iron  down  into  the  valley. 

The  trees  and  bushes  which  clothed  its  sides  con 
cealed  the  infantry  which  was  doubtless  lying  there, 
but  in  the  valley  just  below  them  they  could  see  a. 
battery  of  heavy  guns  thundering  against  the  Bel 
gian  fort.  So  rapidly  were  they  served  that  the 
roar  of  their  discharge  was  almost  continuous,  while 
high  above  it  rose  the  scream  of  the  shells  as  they 
hurtled  toward  their  mark.  There  was  something 
fascinating  in  the  precise,  calculated  movement  of 
the  gunners — one  crouching  on  the  trail,  one  seated 
on  either  side  of  the  breech,  four  others  passing  up 
the  shells  from  the  caisson  close  at  hand.  Their 
officer  was  watching  the  effect  of  the  fire  through  a 
field-glass,  and  speaking  a  word  of  direction  now 
and  then. 

Their  fire  was  evidently  taking  effect,  for  it  was 
this  battery  which  the  gunners  in  the  fort  were  try 
ing  to  silence — trying  blindly,  for  the  German  guns 


220        THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

were  masked  by  a  high  hedge  and  a  strip  of  orchard, 
and  only  a  tenuous,  quickly-vanishing  wisp  of  white 
smoke  marked  the  discharge.  So  the  Belgian  gun 
ners  dropped  their  shells  hither  and  yon,  hoping  that 
chance  might  send  one  of  them  home. 

They  did  not  find  the  battery,  but  they  found 
other  marks — a  beautiful  white  villa,  on  the  first 
slope  of  the  hillside,  was  torn  asunder  like  a  house  of 
cards  and  a  moment  later  was  in  flames;  a  squad  of 
cavalry,  riding  gayly  back  from  a  reconnoissance 
down  the  river,  was  violently  scattered;  a  peasant 
family,  father  and  mother  and  three  children,  hasten 
ing  along  the  road  to  a  place  of  safety,  was  in 
stantly  blotted  out. 

It  was  evident  now  that  the  Meuse  was  the  barrier 
which  had  stopped  the  army.  Far  up  toward  Liege 
were  the  ruins  of  a  bridge,  and  no  doubt  all  the 
others  had  been  blown  up  by  the  Belgians. 

Down  by  the  river-bank  a  large  force  of  engineers 
were  working  like  mad  to  throw  a  pontoon  across 
the  swift  current.  The  material  had  already  been 
brought  up— heavy,  flat-bottomed  boats,  carried  on 
wagons  drawn  by  motor-tractors,  great  beams  and 
planks,  boxes  of  bolts — everything,  in  a  word, 
needed  to  build  this  bridge  just  here  at  a  point  which 
had  no  doubt  been  selected  long  in  advance!  The 


AN  ARMY  IN  ACTION  221 

bridge  shot  out  into  the  river  with  a  speed  which 
seemed  to  Stewart  almost  miraculous.  Boat  after 
boat  was  towed  into  place  and  anchored  firmly ;  great 
beams  were  bolted  into  position,  each  of  them  fitting 
exactly;  and  then  the  heavy  planks  were  laid  with 
the  precision  and  rapidity  of  a  machine.  Indeed, 
Stewart  told  himself,  it  was  really  a  machine  that  he 
was  watching — a  machine  of  flesh  and  blood,  won 
derfully  trained  for  just  such  feats  as  this. 

"  Look !  look !  "  cried  the  girl,  and  Stewart,  fol 
lowing  her  pointing  finger,  saw  an  aeroplane  sweep 
ing  toward  them  from  the  direction  of  the  city. 
Evidently  the  defenders  of  the  fort,  weary  of  firing 
blindly  at  a  battery  they  could  not  see,  were  send 
ing  a  scout  to  uncover  it. 

The  aeroplane  flew  very  high  at  first — so  high  that 
the  two  men  in  it  appeared  the  merest  specks,  but  al 
most  at  once  two  high-angle  guns  were  banging 
away  at  it,  though  the  shells  fell  far  short.  Gradu 
ally  it  circled  lower  and  lower,  as  if  quite  uncon 
scious  of  the  marksmen  in  the  valley,  and  as  it  swept 
past  the  hill,  Stewart  glimpsed  the  men  quite  plainly 
— one  with  his  hands  upon  the  levers,  the  other,  with 
a  pair  of  glasses  to  his  eyes,  eagerly  scanning  the 
ground  beneath. 

And  then  Stewart,  happening  to  glance  toward  the 


222        THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

horizon,  was  held  enthralled  by  a  new  spectacle. 
High  over  the  hills  to  the  east  flew  a  mammoth 
shape,  straight  toward  the  fort.  Its  defenders 
saw  their  danger  instantly,  and  hastily  elevating 
•some  of  their  guns,  greeted  the  Zeppelin  with  a 
salvo.  But  it  came  straight  on  with  incredible  speed, 
and  as  it  passed  above  the  fort,  a  terrific  explosion 
shook  the  mountain  to  its  base.  Stewart,  staring 
with  bated  breath,  told  himself  that  that  was  the 
end,  that  not  one  stone  of  that  great  fortress  re 
mained  upon  another;  but  an  instant  later,  another 
volley  sent  after  the  fleeing  airship  told  that  the  fort 
still  stood — that  the  bomb  had  missed  its  mark. 

The  aeroplane  scouts,  their  vision  shadowed  by 
the  broad  wings  of  their  machine,  had  not  seen  the 
Zeppelin  until  the  explosion  brought  them  sharp 
round  toward  it.  Then,  with  a  sudden  upward 
swoop,  they  leaped  forward  in  pursuit.  But  noth 
ing  could  overtake  that  monster, — it  was  speeding 
too  fast,  it  was  already  far  away,  and  in  a  moment 
disappeared  over  the  hills  to  the  west.  So,  after  a 
moment's  breathless  flight,  the  biplane  turned,  circled 
slowly  above  the  fort,  and  dropped  down  toward 
the  town  behind  it. 

Five  minutes  later,  a  high-powered  shell  burst 
squarely  in  the  midst  of  the  German  battery, 


AN  ARMY  IN  ACTION  223 

disabling  two  of  the  guns.  At  once  the  horses  were 
driven  up  and  the  remaining  guns  whirled  away  to  a 
new  emplacement,  while  a  passing  motor  ambulance 
was  stopped  to  pick  up  the  wounded. 

Stewart,  who  had  been  watching  all  this  with 
something  of  the  feelings  of  a  spectator  at  some 
tremendous  panorama,  was  suddenly  conscious  of  a 
mighty  stream  of  men  approaching  the  river  from 
the  head  of  the  valley.  A  regiment  of  cavalry  rode 
in  front,  their  long  lances  giving  them  an  appearance 
indescribably  picturesque ;  behind  them  came  column 
after  column  of  infantry,  moving  like  clock-work, 
their  gray  uniforms  blending  so  perfectly  with  the 
background  that  it  was  difficult  to  tell  where  the 
columns  began  or  where  they  ended.  Their  pas 
sage  reminded  Stewart  of  the  quiver  of  heat  above  a 
sultry  landscape — a  vibration  of  the  air  scarcely  per 
ceptible. 

All  the  columns  were  converging  on  the  river,  and 
looking  toward  it,  Stewart  saw  that  the  bridge  was 
almost  done.  As  the  last  planks  were  laid,  a  squad 
ron  of  Uhlans,  which  had  been  held  in  readiness, 
dashed  across,  and  deploying  fanshape,  advanced 
to  reconnoiter  the  country  on  the  other  side. 

"  That  looks  like  invasion  in  earnest ! "  said 
Stewart. 


224        THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

The  girl  nodded  without  replying,  her  eyes  on  the 

advancing  columns.  The  cavalry  was  the  first  to  reach 

the  bridge,  and  filed  rapidly  across  to  reenforce  their 

comrades;   then  the   infantry  pressed   forward   in 

( solid  column.      Stewart  could  see  how  the  boats 

.settled  deep  in  the   water  under  the   tremendous 

weight. 

High  above  all  other  sounds,  came  the  hideous 
shriek  of  a  great  shell,  which  flew  over  the  bridge 
and  exploded  in  the  water  a  hundred  yards  below  it. 
A  minute  later,  there  came  another  shriek,  but  this 
time  the  shell  fell  slightly  short.  But  the  thir$«shell 
— the  third  shell! 

Surely,  Stewart  told  himself,  the  bridge  will  be 
cleared;  that  close-packed  column  will  not  be  ex 
posed  to  a  risk  so  awful.  But  it  pressed  on,  with 
out  a  pause,  without  a  break.  What  must  be  the 
soldiers'  thoughts,  as  they  waited  for  the  third 
shell! 

Again  that  high,  hideous,  blood-curdling  shriek 
split  through  the  air,  and  the  next  instant  a  shell 
exploded  squarely  in  the  middle  of  the  bridge. 
Stewart  had  a  moment's  vision  of  a  tangle  of  shat 
tered  bodies,  then  he  saw  that  the  bridge  was  gone 
and  the  river  filled  with  drowning  men,  weighed 
down  by  their  heavy  accouterments.  He  could  hear 


AN  ARMY  IN  ACTION  225 

their  shrill  cries  of  terror  as  they  struggled  in  the 
current;  then  the  cries  ceased  as  the  river  swept  most 
of  them  away.  Only  a  very  few  managed  to  reach 
the  bank. 

Stewart  hid  his  face  in  his  trembling  hands.     It 
was  too  hideous!     It  could  not  be!     He  could  not  I1 
bear  it — the  world  would  not  bear  it,  if  it  knew! 

A  sharp  cry  from  his  companion  told  him  that  the 
awful  drama  was  not  yet  played  to  an  end.  She  was 
pointing  beyond  the  river,  where  the  cavalry  and  the 
small  body  of  infantry  which  had  got  across  seemed 
thrown  into  sudden  confusion.  Horses  reared  and 
fell,  men  dropped  from  their  saddles.  The  in 
fantry  threw  themselves  forward  upon  their  faces; 
and  then  to  Stewart's  ears  came  the  sharp  rattle  of 
musketry. 

"  The  Belgians  are  attacking  them ! "  cried  the 
girl.  "  They  are  driving  them  back !  " 

But  that  cavalry,  so  superbly  trained,  that  infan 
try,  so  expertly  officered,  were  not  to  be  driven  back 
without  a  struggle.  The  Uhlans  formed  into  line 
and  swept  forward,  with  lances  couched,  over  the 
ridge  beyond  the  river  and  out  of  sight,  in  a  furious 
charge.  But  the  Belgians  must  have  stood  firm,  for 
at  the  end  of  a  few  moments,  the  troopers  straggled 
back  again,  sadly  diminished  in  numbers,  and  rode 


226        THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

rapidly  away  down  the  river,  leaving  the  infantry  to 
its  fate. 

Meanwhile,  on  the  eastern  bank  of  the  river,  a  bat 
tery  of  quick-firers  had  already  been  swung  into  posi 
tion,  and  was  singing  its  deadly  tune  to  hold  the 
Belgians  back.  Already  the  men  of  that  little  com 
pany  on  the  farther  side  had  found  a  sort  of  refuge 
behind  a  line  of  hummocks.  Already  some  heavier 
guns  were  being  hurried  into  position  to  defend  the 
bridge  which  the  engineers  began  at  once  to  rebuild 
farther  down  the  stream,  where  it  would  be  better 
masked  from  the  fort's  attack. 

Evidently  the  Belgians  did  not  intend  to  enter 
that  deadly  zone  of  fire,  and  the  fight  settled  down 
to  a  dogged,  long-distance  one. 

"  We  cannot  get  across  here,"  said  the  girl  at 
last.  "  We  shall  have  to  work  our  way  downstream 
until  we  are  past  the  Germans.  If  we  can  join  the 
Belgians,  we  are  safe." 

But  to  get  past  the  Germans  proved  a  far  greater 
task  than  they  had  anticipated.  There  seemed  to  be 
no  end  to  the  gray-clad  legions.  Brigade  after  bri 
gade  packed  the  stretch  of  level  ground  along  the 
river,  while  the  road  was  crowded  with  an  astound 
ing  tangle  of  transport  wagons,  cook  wagons, 
armored  motors,  artillery,  tractors,  ambulances,  and 


AN  ARMY  IN  ACTION  227 

automobiles  of  every  sort,  evidently  seized  by  the 
army  in  its  advance. 

As  he  looked  at  them,  Stewart  could  not  but  won 
der  how  on  earth  they  had  ever  been  assembled  here, 
and,  still  more,  how  they  were  ever  going  to  be  got 
away  again.  Also,  he  thought,  how  easily  might 
they  be  cut  to  pieces  by  a  few  batteries  of  machine- 
guns  posted  on  that  ridge  across  the  river!  Look 
ing  across,  he  saw  that  the  army  chiefs  had  foreseen 
that  danger  and  guarded  against  it,  for  a  strong  body 
of  cavalry  had  been  thrown  across  the  river  to  screen 
the  advance,  while  along  the  bank,  behind  hasty  but 
well-built  intrenchments,  long  lines  of  artillery  had 
been  massed  to  repel  any  attack  from  that  direction. 

But  no  attack  came.  The  little  Belgian  army  evi 
dently  had  its  hands  full  elsewhere,  and  was  very 
busy  indeed,  as  the  roar  of  firing  both  up  and  down 
the  river  testified.  And  then,  as  the  fugitives  walked 
on  along  the  hillside,  they  saw  that  one  avenue  of 
advance  would  soon  be  open,  for  a  company  of 
engineers,  heavily  guarded  by  cavalry  and  quick- 
firers,  was  repairing  a  bridge  whose  central  span  had 
been  blown  up  by  the  Belgians  as  they  retreated. 

The  bridge  had  connected  two  little  villages,  that 
on  the  east  bank  dominated  by  a  beautiful  white 
chateau  placed  at  the  edge  of  a  cliff.  Of  the  vil- 


228         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

lages  little  remained  but  smoking  ruins,  and  a 
flag  above  the  chateau  showed  that  it  had  been  con 
verted  into  a  staff  headquarters. 

Where  was  the  owner  of  the  chateau,  Stewart 
wondered,  looking  up  at  it.  Where  were  the  womea 
who  had  sat  and  gossiped  on  its  terrace?  Where 
were  all  the  people  who  had  lived  in  those  two  vil 
lages?  Wandering  somewhere  to  the  westward, 
homeless  and  destitute,  every  one  of  them — haggard 
women  and  hungry  children  and  tottering  old  men, 
whose  quiet  world  had  turned  suddenly  to  chaos. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  at  last,  "  it  looks  as  if  we  shall 
have  to  wait  until  these  fellows  clear  out.  We  can't 
get  across  the  river  as  long  as  there  is  a  line  like 
that  before  it." 

"  Perhaps  when  they  begin  to  advance,  they  will 
leave  a  break  in  the  line  somewhere,"  his  companion 
suggested.  "  Or  perhaps  we  can  slip  across  in  the 
darkness.  Let  us  wait  and  see." 

So  they  sat  down  behind  the  screen  of  a  clump  of 
bushes,  and  munched  their  apples,  while  they 
watched  the  scene  below.  Stewart  even  ventured 
to  light  his  pipe  again. 

A  flotilla  of  boats  of  every  shape  and  size,  com 
mandeered,  no  doubt,  all  up  and  down  the  river, 
plied  busily  back  and  forth,  augmenting  the  troops 


AN  ARMY  IN  ACTION  229 

on  the  other  side  as  rapidly  as  possible;  and  again 
Stewart  marveled  at  the  absolute  order  and  system 
preserved  in  this  operation,  which  might  so  easily 
have  become  confused.  There  was  no  crowding,  no 
overloading,  no  hurrying,  but  everywhere  a  calm 
and  efficient  celerity.  A  certain  number  of  men 
entered  each  of  the  boats, — leading  their  horses  by 
the  bridle,  if  they  were  cavalry, — and  the  boats 
pushed  off.  Reluctant  horses  were  touched  with  a 
whip,  but  most  of  them  stepped  down  into  the  water 
quietly  and  without  hesitation,  showing  that  they 
had  been  drilled  no  less  than  their  masters,  and 
swam  strongly  along  beside  the  boat.  On  the  other 
shore,  the  disembarkation  was  conducted  in  the  same 
unhurried  fashion,  and  the  boat  swung  back  into  the 
stream  again  for  another  load. 

But  a  great  army  cannot  be  conveyed  across  a 
river  in  small  boats,  and  it  was  not  until  mid-after 
noon,  when  the  repairs  on  the  bridge  were  finished, 
that  the  real  forward  movement  began.  From  that 
moment  it  swept  forward  like  a  flood — first  the  re 
mainder  of  the  cavalry,  then  the  long  batteries  of 
quick-firers,  then  regiment  after  regiment  of  in 
fantry,  each  regiment  accompanied  by  its  transport. 
Looking  down  at  the  tangle  of  wagons  and  guns 
and  motors,  Stewart  saw  that  it  was  not  really  a 


230        THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

tangle,  but  an  ordered  arrangement,  which  unrolled 
itself  smoothly  and  without  friction. 

The  advance  was  slow,  but  it  was  unceasing,  and 
by  nightfall  at  least  fifteen  thousand  men  had  crossed 
the  river.  Still  the  host  encamped  along  it  seemed 
as  great  as  ever.  As  one  detachment  crossed,  an 
other  came  up  from  somewhere  in  the  rear  to  take  its 
place.  Stewart's  brain  reeled  as  he  gazed  down  at 
them  and  tried  to  estimate  their  number;  and  this 
was  only  one  small  corner  of  the  Kaiser's  army. 
For  leagues  and  leagues  to  north  and  south  it  was 
pressing  forward;  no  doubt  along  the  whole  frontier 
similar  hosts  were  massed  for  the  invasion.  It  was 
gigantic,  incredible — that  word  was  in  his  thoughts 
more  frequently  than  any  other.  He  could  not  be 
lieve  his  own  eyes;  his  brain  refused  to  credit  the 
evidence  of  his  senses. 

Each  unit  of  this  great  array,  each  company,  each 
squad,  seemed  to  live  its  own  life  and  to  be  suffi 
cient  unto  itself.  Stewart  could  see  the  company 
cooks  preparing  the  evening  meal;  the  heavy, 
wheeled  camp-stoves  were  fired  up,  great  kettles  of 
soup  were  set  bubbling,  broad  loaves  of  dark  bread 
were  cut  into  thick  slices;  and  finally,  at  a  bugle 
call,  the  men  fell  into  line,  white-enameled  cups  in 
hand,  and  received  their  rations.  It  seemed  to  Stew- 


AN  ARMY  IN  ACTION  231 

art  that  he  could  smell  the  appetizing  odor  of  that 
thick  soup — an  odor  of  onions  and  potatoes  and 
turnips. 

"Doesn't   it   make   you   ravenous?"    he    asked. 

r"  Wouldn't  you  like  to  have  some  real  solid  food  to 

set  your  teeth  into  ?    Raw  eggs  and  apples — -ugh !  " 

"  Yes,  it  does,"  said  the  girl,  who  had  been  con 
templating  the  scene  with  dreamy  eyes,  scarcely 
speaking  all  the  afternoon.  "  The  French  still  wear 
the  uniform  of  1870,"  she  added,  half  to  herself ;  "  a 
long  bulky  blue  coat  and  red  trousers." 

"  Visible  a  mile  away — -while  these  fellows  melt 
into  the  ground  at  a  hundred  yards!  If  Germany 
wins,  it  will  be  through  forethought !  " 

"  But  she  cannot  win !  "  protested  the  girl,  fiercely. 
"  She  must  not  win !  " 

"  Well,  all  I  can  say  is  that  France  has  a  big  job 
ahead!" 

"  France  will  not  stand  alone !  Already  she  has 
Russia  as  an  ally;  Belgium  is  doing  what  it  can; 
Servia  has  a  well-tried  army.  Nor  are  those  all! 
England  will  soon  find  that  she  cannot  afford  to 
stand  aside,  and  if  there  is  need,  other  nations  will 
come  in — Portugal,  Rumania,  even  Italy !  " 

Stewart  shook  his  head,  skeptically. 

"  I  don't  know,"  he  said,  slowly.    "  I  know  notl»- 


232       THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

ing-  about  world-politics,  but  I  don't  believe  any  na 
tion  will  come  in  that  doesn't  have  to ! " 

"  That  is  it — all  -of  them  will  find  that  they  have 
to,  for  Prussian  triumph  means  slavery  for  all  Eu-( 
rope — for  the  Germans  most  of  all.  It  is  for  them 
as  much  as  for  herself  that  France  'is  fighting — for 
human  rights  everywhere — for  the  poor  people  who 
till  the  fields,  and  toil  in  the  factories,  and  sweat  in 
the  mines!  And  civilization  must  fight  with  her 
against  this  barbarian  state  ruled  by  the  upturned 
mustache  and  mailed  fist,  believing  that  might  makes 
right  and  that  she  can  do  no  wrong!  That  is  why 
you  and  I  are  fighting  on  France's  side !  " 

"If  nobody  fights  any  harder  than  I " 

She  stopped  him  with  a  hand  upon  his  arm. 

"  Ah,  but  you  are  fighting  well !  One  can  fight 
in  other  ways  than  with  a  rifle — one  can  fight  with 
one's  brains." 

"  It  is  your  brains,  not  mine,  which  have  done  the 
fighting  in  this  campaign,"  Stewart  pointed  out. 

"  Where  should  I  have  been  but  for  you?  Dead,' 
most  probably,  my  message  lost,  my  life-work  shat 
tered!" 

He  placed  his  hand  quietly  over  hers  and  held  it 
fast 

"  Let  us  be  clear,  then,"  he  said.    "  It  is  not  for 


AN  ARMY  IN  ACTION  233 

freedom,  or  for  any  abstract  ideal  I  am  fighting. 
It  is  for  you — for  your  friendship,  for  your " 

"  No,  it  is  for  France,"  she  broke  in.  "  I  am  not 
worth  fighting  for — I  am  but  one  girl  among  many 

'pillions.    And  if  we  win — if  we  get  through " 

/     She  paused,   gazing  out  through  the  gathering 
darkness  with  starry  eyes. 

"  Yes — if  we  get  through,"  he  prompted. 

"  It  will  mean  more  to  France  than  many  regi 
ments  !  "  and  she  struck  the  pocket  which  contained 
the  letters.  "  Ah,  we  must  get  through — we  must 
not  fail!" 

She  rose  suddenly  and  stretched  her  arms  high 
above  her  head. 

"  Dear  God,  you  will  not  let  us  fail !  "  she  cried. 
Then  she  turned  and  held  out  a  hand  to  him. 
"  Come,"  she  said,  quietly ;  "  if  we  are  to  get  across, 
it  must  be  before  the  moon  rises." 


CHAPTER  XIII 
THE  PASSAGE  OF  THE  MEUSE 

THE  mist  of  early  evening  had  settled  over  the  river 
and  wiped  away  every  vestige  of  the  army,  save  the 
flaring  lights  of  the  camp-kitchens  and  the  white 
lamps  of  the  motors;  but  the  creaking  of  wheels, 
the  pounding  of  engines,  and  the  regular  tramp  of 
countless  feet  told  that  the  advance  had  not  slack 
ened  for  an  instant. 

On  the  uplands  there  was  still  a  little  light,  and 
Stewart  and  his  companion  picked  their  way  cau 
tiously  down  through  a  belt  of  woodland,  across  a 
rough  field,  and  over  a  wall,  beyond  which  they 
found  an  uneven  path,  made  evidently  by  a  van 
ished  herd  as  it  went  back  and  forth  to  its  pasture. 
They  advanced  slowly  and  silently,  every  sense  on 
the  alert,  but  seemingly  no  pickets  had  been  posted  ' 
on  this  side,  from  which  there  was  no  reason  to 
fear  an  attack,  and  they  were  soon  down  amid  the 
mist,  at  the  edge  of  the  encampment. 

Here,  however,  there  were  sentries — a  close  line 
of  them ;  the  fugitives  could  see  them  dimly  outlined 

234 


THE  PASSAGE  OF  THE  MEUSE      235 

against  the  fires,  and  could  hear  their  occasional 
interchange  of  challenges. 

"  It  is  impossible  to  get  through  here,"  whispered 
the  girl.  "  Let  us  go  on  until  we  are  below  the 
bridge.  Perhaps  we  shall  find  a  gap  there." 

So,  hand  in  hand  lest  they  become  separated  in 
the  darkness,  they  worked  their  way  cautiously 
downstream,  just  out  of  sight  of  the  line  of  sentries. 

"  Wait !  "  whispered  Stewart,  suddenly.  "  What 
is  that  ahead  ?  " 

Something  tall  and  black  and  vaguely  menacing 
loomed  above  them  into  the  night. 

"  The  church  tower !  "  breathed  the  girl,  after  a 
moment.  "  See — there  are  ruins  all  about  it — it  is 
the  village  they  burned." 

They  hesitated.  Should  they  enter  it,  or  try  to  go 
around?  There  was  something  sinister  and  threat 
ening  about  these  roofless,  blackened  walls  which  had 
once  been  homes;  but  to  go  around  meant  climbing 
cliffs,  meant  breathless  scrambling — above  all,  meant 
loss  of  time. 

"  We  must  risk  it,"  said  the  girl,  at  last.  "  We 
can  come  back  if  the  place  is  guarded." 

Their  hands  instinctively  tightened  their  clasp  as 
they  stole  forward  into  the  shadow  of  the  houses, 
along  what  had  once  been  a  street,  but  was  now  lit- 


236         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

tered  and  blocked  with  fallen  walls  and  debris  of 
every  kind,  some  of  it  still  smouldering.  Every 
where  there  was  the  stench  of  half-burned  wood,  and 
another  stench,  more  penetrating,  more  nauseating. 

Stewart  was  staring  uneasily  about  him,  telling 
himself  that  that  stench  could  not  possibly  be  what 
it  seemed,  when  his  companion's  hand  squeezed  his 
and  dragged  him  quickly  aside  against  a  wall. 

"  Down,  down !  "  she  breathed,  and  they  cowe 
together  behind  a  mass  of  fallen  masonry. 

Then  Stewart  peered  out,  cautiously.  Yes,  there 
was  someone  coming.  Far  down  the  street  ahead  of 
them  a  tiny  light  flashed,  disappeared,  flashed  again, 
and  disappeared. 

Crowding  close  together,  they  buried  themselves 
deeper  in  the  ruins  and  waited. 

At  last  they  could  hear  steps — slow,  cautious 
steps,  full  of  fear — and  the  light  appeared  again, 
dancing  from  side  to  side.  It  seemed  to  be  a  small 
lantern,  carefully  shaded,  so  that  only  a  narrow 
beam  of  light  escaped;  and  that  beam  was  sent  danc 
ing  from  side  to  side  along  the  street,  in  dark  cor 
ners,  under  fallen  doorways. 

Suddenly  it  stopped,  and  Stewart's  heart  leaped 
sickeningly  as  he  saw  that  the  beam  rested  on  a  face 
— a  white  face,  staring  up  with  sightless  eyes. 


THE  PASSAGE  OF  THE  MEUSE      237 

The  light  approached,  hung  above  it — a  living 
hand  caught  up  the  dead  one,  on  which  there  was 
the  gleam  of  gold,  a  knife  flashed 

And  then,  from  the  darkness  almost  beside  them, 
four  darts  of  flame  stabbed  toward  the  kneeling 
figure,  and  the  ruins  rocked  with  a  great  explo 
sion. 

When  Stewart  opened  his  eyes  again,  he  saw  a 
squad  of  soldiers,  each  armed  with  an  electric  torch, 
standing  about  the  body  of  the  robber  of  the  dead, 
while  their  sergeant  emptied  his  pockets.  There 
were  rings — one  still  encircling  a  severed  finger — 
money,  a  watch,  trinkets  of  every  sort,  some  of  them 
quite  worthless. 

The  man  was  in  uniform,  and  the  sergeant,  rip 
ping  open  coat  and  shirt,  drew  out  the  little  identi 
fying  tag  of  metal  which  hung  about  his  neck,  broke 
it  from  its  string,  and  thrust  it  into  his  pocket.  Then 
he  gathered  the  booty  into  his  handkerchief,  tied  the 
ends  together  with  a  satisfied  grunt,  and  gave  a 
gruff  command.  The  lights  vanished  and  the  squad 
stumbled  ahead  into  the  darkness. 

There  was  a  moment's  silence.  Stewart's  nerves 
were  quivering  so  that  he  could  scarcely  control  them 
— he  could  feel  his  mouth  twitching,  and  put  his 
hand  up  to  stop  it. 


238         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

"  We  can't  go  on,"  he  muttered.  "  We  must  go 
back.  This  is  too  horrible — it  is  unbearable !  " 

Together  they  stole  tremblingly  out  of  the  ruin, 
along  the  littered  street,  past  the  church-tower, 
across  the  road,  over  the  wall,  back  into  the  clean 
fields.  There  they  flung  themselves  down  gaspingly, 
side  by  side. 

How  sweet  the  smell  of  the  warm  earth,  after  the 
stench  of  the  looted  town !  How  calm  and  lovely  the 
stars. 

Stewart,  staring  up  at  them,  felt  a  great  serenity 
descend  upon  him.  After  all,  what  did  it  matter  to 
the  universe — this  trivial  disturbance  upon  this  tiny 
planet?  Men  might  kill  each  other,  nations  disap 
pear  ;  but  the  stars  would  swing  on  in  their  courses, 
the  constellations  go  their  predestined  ways.  Of 
what  significance  was  man  in  the  great  scheme  of 
things  ?  How  absurd  the  pomp  of  kings  and  kaisers, 
how  grotesque  their  assumption  of  greatness ! 

A  stifled  sob  startled  him.  He  groped  quickly  for 
his  comrade,  and  found  her  lying  prone,  her  face 
buried  in  her  arms.  He  drew  her  close  and  held  her 
as  he  might  have  held  a  child.  After  all,  she  was 
scarcely  more  than  that — a  child,  delicate  and  sensi 
tive.  As  a  child  might,  she  pillowed  her  head  upon 
his  breast  and  lay  there  sobbing  softly. 


THE  PASSAGE  OF  THE  MEUSE      239 

But  the  sobs  ceased  presently;  he  could  feel  how 
she  struggled  for  self-control ;  and  at  last  she  turned 
in  his  arms  and  lay  staring  up  at  the  heavens. 

"  That's  right,"  he  said.  "  Look  up  at  the  stars ! 
That  helps !  "  and  it  seemed  to  him,  in  spite  of  the ' 
tramp  of  feet  and  the  rattle  of  wheels  and  curses  of 
savage  drivers,  that  they  were  alone  together  in 
the  midst  of  things,  and  that  nothing  else  mat 
tered. 

"  How  sublime  they  are !  "  she  whispered.  "  How 
they  calm  and  strengthen  one !  They  seem  to  under 
stand  ! "  She  turned  her  face  and  looked  at  him. 
"  You  too  have  understood!  "  she  said,  very  softly; 
then  gently  disengaged  his  arms  and  sat  erect. 

"  Do  you  know,"  said  Stewart,  slowly,  "  what  we 
saw  back  there  has  revived  my  faith  in  human  na 
ture — and  it  needed  reviving !  Those  men  must  have 
seen  that  that  scoundrel  was  a  soldier  like  them 
selves,  yet  they  didn't  hesitate  to  shoot.  Justice  still 
lives,  then ;  a  sense  of  decency  can  survive,  even  in 
an  army.  I  had  begun  to  doubt  it,  and  I  am  glad  to 
know  that  I  was  wrong." 

"  The  tenderest,  noblest  gentleman  I  ever  knew," 
she  answered,  softly,  "  was  a  soldier." 

"  Yes,"  Stewart  agreed;  "  I  have  known  one  or 
two  like  that." 


240        THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

War  was  not  wholly  bad,  then.  Its  fierce  flame 
blasted,  blackened,  tortured — but  it  also  refined.  It 
had  its  brutal  lusts — but  it  had  also  its  high  hero 
isms! 

The  girl  at  his  side  stirred  suddenly. 

"  We  must  be  going,"  she  said. 

"  You're  sure  you  are  all  right  again?  " 

"  Yes,"  and  she  rose  quickly.  "  We  must  go  back 
the  way  we  came." 

They  set  out  again  along  the  edge  of  the  army, 
stumbling  across  rough  fields,  crouching  behind 
hedges,  turning  aside  to  avoid  a  lighted  house  where 
some  officers  were  making  merry.  For  perhaps  a 
mile  they  pressed  on,  with  a  line  of  sentries  always  at 
their  right,  outlined  against  the  gleam  of  scattered 
lights.  Then,  quite  suddenly,  there  were  no  more 
lights,  and  they  knew  that  they  had  reached  the  limit 
of  the  encampment. 

Had  they  also  reached  the  limit  of  the  line  of 
sentries?  There  was  no  way  to  make  sure;  but 

they  crept  forward  to  the  wall  along  the  highway 
'i 
and  peered  cautiously  over.    The  road  seemed  empty. 

They  crossed  it  as  swiftly  and  silently  as  shadows, 
and  in  a  moment  were  safe  behind  the  wall  on  the 
other  side. 

Beyond  it  lay  the  yard  of  an  Iron  foundry,  with 


THE  PASSAGE  OF  THE  MEUSE      241 

great  piles  of  castings  scattered  about  and  a  tall 
building  looming  at  their  left.  In  front  of  it  they 
caught  the  gleam  of  a  sentry's  rifle,  so  they  bore 
away  to  the  right  until  they  reached  the  line  of  the 
railway  running  close  along  the  river  bank.  There 
were  sentries  here,  too,  but  they  were  stationed  far 
apart  and  were  apparently  half-asleep,  and  the  fugi 
tives  had  no  difficulty  in  slipping  between  them.  A 
moment  later,  they  had  scrambled  down  a  steep  bank 
and  stood  at  the  edge  of  the  river. 

"  And  now,"  whispered  Stewart,  "  to  get  over." 

He  looked  out  across  the  water,  flowing  strong 
and  deep,  mysterious  and  impressive  in  the  darkness, 
powerful,  unhurried,  alert — as  if  grimly  conscious 
of  its  task,  and  rejoicing  in  it;  for  this  stream  which 
was  holding  the  Germans  back  had  its  origin  away 
southward  in  the  heart  of  France.  He  could  not  see 
the  other  bank,  but  he  knew  that  it  was  at  least  two 
hundred  yards  away. 

"  If  we  could  find  a  boat !  "  he  added.  "  We  saw 
plenty  of  them  this  afternoon." 

"We  dare  not  use  a  boat,"  the  girl  objected., 
"  We  should  be  seen  and  fired  upon." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  swim?  "  Stewart  demanded. 

"Be  more  careful!"  she  cautioned.  "Someone 
may  hear  us,"  and  she  drew  him  down  into  the 


242         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

shadow  of  the  bank.      "  Unfortunately,   I   cannot 
swim,  but  no  doubt  you  can." 

"I'm  not  what  would  be  called  an  expert,  but  I 
think  I  could  swim  across  this  river.  However,  I 
absolutely  refuse  to  try  to  take  you  over.  It  would 
be  too  great  a  risk." 

"If  we  had  a  plank  or  log,  I  could  hold  to  it 
while  you  pushed  it  along.  If  you  grew  tired,  you 
could  rest  and  drift  for  a  time." 

Stewart  considered  the  plan.  It  seemed  feasible. 
A  drifting  plank  would  attract  no  attention  from  the 
shore — the  river  was  full  of  debris  from  the  opera 
tions  around  Liege — and,  whether  they  got  across  or 
not,  there  would  be  no  danger  of  either  of  them 
drowning.  And  they  ought  to  get  over,  for  it  would 
be  no  great  task  to  work  a  plank  across  the  stream. 

"  Yes,  I  think  I  could  do  that,"  he  said  at  last. 
"  Let  us  see  if  we  can  find  a  plank." 

There  was  nothing  of  the  sort  along  the  shore, 
though  they  searched  it  for  some  distance;  but  oppo 
site  the  foundry  they  came  upon  a  pile  of  the  square 
wooden  sand-boxes  in  which  castings  are  made. 
Stewart,  when  he  saw  them,  chuckled  with  satisfac 
tion. 

"Just  the  thing!  "  he  said.  "  Providence  is  cer 
tainly  on  our  side  to-night !  " 


THE  PASSAGE  OF  THE  MEUSE      243 

"  I  hope  so !  "  breathed  the  girl,  and  between  them 
they  carried  one  of  the  boxes  down  to  the  edge  of  the 
water. 

Then,  after  a  moment's  hesitation,  Stewart  sat 
down  and  began  to  take  off  his  shoes. 

"  We  shall  have  to  get  rid  of  our  clothing,"  he 
said,  in  the  most  matter-of-fact  tone  he  could  muster. 
"  There  is  nothing  heavier  than  clothes  when  they 
get  water-soaked.  Besides,  we've  got  to  keep  them 
dry  if  we  can.  If  we  don't,  we  shall  nearly  freeze 
to  death  after  we  leave  the  water — and  they'll  betray 
us  a  mile  off!  " 

The  girl  stood  for  a  moment  staring  out  across 
the  river.  Then  she  sat  down  with  her  back  to  him. 

"  You  are  quite  right,"  she  agreed,  quietly,  and 
bent  above  her  shoes. 

"  We'll  turn  the  box  upside  down  and  put  our 
clothes  upon  it,"  went  on  Stewart,  cheerfully. 
"  They  will  keep  dry  there.  The  water  isn't  very 
cold,  probably,  but  we  shall  be  mighty  glad  to  have 
some  dry  things  to  get  into  once  we  are  out  of  it." 

She  did  not  reply,  and  Stewart  went  rapidly  on 
with  his  undressing.  When  that  was  finished,  he 
rolled  his  trousers,  shoes  and  underclothing  into  a 
compact  bundle  inside  his  coat,  and  tied  the  sleeves 
together. 


244        THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

"  Now  I'm  going  to  launch  the  raft,"  he  said. 
"  Roll  your  clothes  up  inside  your  coat,  so  that  noth 
ing  white  will  show,  and  wade  out  to  me  as  soon  as 
you  are  ready." 

"  Very  well,"  she  answered,  in  a  low  tone. 

With  his  bundle  under  one  arm,  Stewart  turned 
the  box  over  and  dragged  it  into  the  water.  He  had 
been  shivering  in  the  night  air,  but  the  water  was 
agreeably  warm.  Placing  his  bundle  upon  the  top 
of  the  box,  he  pushed  it  before  him  out  into  the 
stream,  and  was  soon  breast-deep.  Then,  holding 
the  box  against  the  current,  he  waited. 

Minute  after  minute  passed,  but  she  did  not  come. 
He  could  not  see  the  shore,  but  he  strained  his  eyes 
toward  it,  wondering  if  he  should  go  back,  if  any 
thing  had  happened.  So  quiet  and  unquestioning  had 
been  her  acceptance  of  his  plan  that  he  did  not 
suspect  the  struggle  waging  there  on  the  bank  be 
tween  girlish  modesty  and  grim  necessity. 

But,  at  last,  from  the  mist  along  the  shore,  a  white 
figure  emerged,  dim  and  ghostlike  in  the  darkness. 
and  he  heard  a  gentle  splashing  as  she  came  toward 
him  through  the  water.  He  raised  his  arm,  to  make 
certain  that  she  saw  him,  then  turned  his  head  away. 

Near  and  nearer  came  the  splashing;  then  the 
box  rocked  gently  as  she  placed  her  clothing  on  it. 


THE  PASSAGE  OF  THE  MEUSE      245 

"  All  right?  "  he  asked,  softly. 

"  Yes,"  she  answered. 

He  turned  to  find  her  looking  up  at  him  from  the 
level  of  the  stream,  which  came  just  beneath  her  chin. 
The  light  of  the  stars  reflected  on  the  water  crowned 
her  with  a  misty  halo,  and  again  he  read  in  her 
face  that  sweet  and  tremulous  appeal  for  respect  and 
understanding  which  had  so  moved  him  once  before. 
It  moved  him  far  more  deeply  now ;  but  he  managed 
to  bite  back  the  words  which  leaped  to  his  lips  and 
to  speak  almost  casually — as  though  situations  such 
as  this  were  the  most  ordinary  in  the  world. 

"  Have  you  got  a  firm  grip  of  the  handle  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

He  assured  himself  that  both  bundles  of  clothing 
were  secure. 

"  All  ready,  then,"  he  said.  "  Just  hold  on  and 
let  your  body  float  out  in  the  water.  Don't  hold 
your  head  too  high,  and  if  you  feel  your  hands  slip 
ping  call  me  at  once.  I  don't  want  to  lose  you,  little 
comrade ! " 

"  I  will  remember,"  she  promised,  smiling  grate 
fully  up  at  him. 

"  Then  here  we  go,"  and  he  pushed  the  box  slowly 
out  into  the  stream. 

In  a  moment  the  water  was  at  his  chin. 


246         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

"  All  right  ?  "  he  asked  again. 
"  Yes." 

He  took  another  step  forward,  the  current  caught 
him  and  lifted  him  off  his  feet,  and  he  began  to  swim 
easily  and  slowly.  He  was  not  sure  of  his  strength, 
it  was  a  long  time  since  he  had  done  any  serious 
swimming,  and  he  knew  that  he  must  husband  him 
self.  Then,  too,  the  current  was  stronger  than  it 
had  seemed  from  the  shore,  and  he  found  that  he 
could  make  head  against  it  but  slowly,  for  the  box 
was  of  an  awkward  shape  and  the  girl's  body  trail 
ing  behind  it  so  much  dead  weight. 

"  Slow  but  sure,"  he  said,  reassuringly,  resting 
a  moment.     "You're  quite  all  right?" 
"  Yes.    You  must  not  worry  about  me." 
He  glanced  back  at  the  shore,  where  the  lights  of 
the  camp  shone  dimly  through  the  mist. 

"  We're  going  to  drift  right  past  the  camp,"  he 
said;  "but  they  can't  see  us,  and  it  will  make  our 
landing  safer  if  we  come  out  below  the  troops.  It 
would  be  rather  embarrassing,  wouldn't  it,  if  we 
found  a  patrol  waiting  for  us  on  the  bank?  Now 
for  another  swim !  " 

He  pushed  ahead  until  he  found  himself  begin 
ning  to  tire,  then  stopped  and  looked  around. 
"  There's  the  bridge !  "  he  said,  suddenly. 


THE  PASSAGE  OF  THE  MEUSE      247 

And,  sure  enough,  just  ahead,  they  could  see  its 
dim  shape  spanning  the  stream.  A  cold  fear  gripped 
Stewart's  heart.  Suppose  they  should  be  swept 
against  one  of  the  abutments! 

"  Take  tight  hold  with  both  hands,"  he  com 
manded.  "  Don't  let  go,  whatever  happens !  " 

He  swung  himself  round  to  the  front  of  the  box 
and  tried  to  pierce  the  gloom  ahead.  The  center  of 
the  stream  would  be  clear,  he  told  himself,  and  they 
must  be  nearly  in  the  center.  Then  he  heard  the 
confused  tread  of  many  feet,  the  current  seemed  to 
quicken,  and  he  glanced  up  to  see  that  they  were  al 
most  beneath  the  bridge.  Yes,  the  stream  ahead  was 
clear;  but  what  were  those  lights  down  along  the 
water? 

And  then  he  saw  that  a  boat  was  moored  there, 
and  that  a  squad  of  men  were  strengthening  the  sup 
ports  with  which  the  engineers  had  hastily  repaired 
the  shattered  abutment. 

With  frenzied  energy,  he  pulled  the  box  around  so 
that  his  companion's  head  was  hidden  behind  it; 
then,  with  only  his  nose  out,  he  floated  silently  on. 
They  would  not  see  him,  he  told  himself;  they  were 
too  busily  at  work.  Even  if  they  did,  they  could 
make  nothing  of  this  rough  shape  drifting  down  the 
river. 


248        THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

Nevertheless,  as  they  swept  within  the  circle  of 
light  cast  by  the  flaring  torches,  Stewart,  taking  a 
deep  breath,  let  himself  sink  below  the  surface; 
and  not  until  the  blood  was  singing  in  his  ears  did 
he  come  up  again. 

They  had  passed!  They  were  safe!  He  drew  a 
deep  breath.  Then  he  peered  around  the  box. 

"Are  you  there?    Are  you  all  right?  " 

"  Yes,"  came  the  soft  answer.  "  Never  tell  me 
again  that  you  are  not  a  fighter !  " 

"  Compliments  are  barred  until  we  are  safe  in 
Belgium !  "  he  reminded  her  gayly.  "  But  it's  clear 
sailing  now ! " 

He  struck  out  again,  pushing  diagonally  forward 
toward  the  bank  which  he  could  not  see,  but  which 
could  not  be  far  away.  This  was  not  going  to  prove 
such  a  desperate  adventure,  after  all.  The  worst 
was  over,  for,  once  on  land,  far  below  the  German 
troops,  they  had  only  to  push  forward  to  find  them 
selves  among  friends. 

Then  his  heart  stood  still  as  a  shrill  scream  rent 
the  night — a  woman's  scream  of  deadly  horror — and 
he  jerked  his  head  around  to  find  that  his  comrade 
was  no  longer  there. 


NEVER  will  Stewart  forget  the  stark  horror  of  that 
instant ;  never  afterward  did  he  think  of  it  without  a 
shudder.  It  was  one  of  those  instants — fortunately 
few — which  stamp  themselves  indelibly  upon  the 
brain,  which  penetrate  the  spirit,  which  leave  a  mark 
not  to  be  effaced. 

It  was  the  flash  of  her  white  arm,  as  she  sank  for 
the  second  time,  that  saved  her.  Instinctively  Stew 
art  clutched  at  it,  seized  it,  regained  the  box  at  a 
vigorous  stroke,  threw  one  arm  across  a  handle,  and 
raised  her  head  above  the  water. 

Her  face  was  white  as  death,  her  eyes  were  closed, 
she  hung  a  dead  weight  upon  his  arm — and  yet, 
Stewart  told  himself,  she  could  not  have  drowned 
'  in  so  short  a  time.  She  had  been  under  water  only 
a  few  seconds.  Perhaps  she  had  been  wounded — 
but  he  had  heard  no  shot.  His  teeth  chattered  as  he 
looked  at  her,  she  lay  so  still,  so  deathlike. 

And  then  he  remembered  that  shrill  scream  of  ut- 


250         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

ter  horror.  Why  had  she  screamed?  What  was 
it  had  wrung  from  her  that  terrible  cry  ?  Had  some 
awful  thing  touched  her,  seized  her,  tried  to  drag 
her  down? 

Shivering  with  fear,  Stewart  looked  out  across  the 
water.  Was  there  something  lurking  in  those  depths 
— some  horror — some  unthinkable  monster 

He  shook  himself  impatiently;  he  must  not  give 
way  to  his  nerves.  Holding  her  face  back,  he 
splashed  some  water  into  it,  gently  at  first,  then  more 
violently.  She  was  not  dead — she  had  only  fainted. 
A  touch  on  her  temple  assured  him  that  her  heart 
was  beating. 

He  must  have  been  unconsciously  paddling  against 
the  current,  for  something  touched  him  gently  on  the 
shoulder — a  piece  of  driftwood,  perhaps;  and  then 
he  was  suddenly  conscious  that  it  was  not  driftwood 
— that  it  was  soft,  hairy 

He  spun  around,  to  find  himself  staring  down  into ' 
a  pair  of  unseeing  eyes,  set  in  a  face  so  puffed  and 
leprous  as  to  be  scarcely  human. 

How  he  repressed  the  yell  of  terror  that  rose  in 
his  throat  he  never  knew ;  but  he  did  repress  it  some 
how,  and  creeping  with  horror,  pushed  the  box 
quickly  to  one  side.  But  the  bloated  body,  caught  in 
the  swirl  of  his  wake,  turned  and  followed,  with 


THE  LAST  DASH  251 

an  appearance  of  malignant  purpose  which  sent  a 
chill  up  Stewart's  spine.  Kicking  f renziedly,  he  held 
the  box  back  against  the  current,  and  for  an  instant 
fancied  that  his  hideous  pursuer  was  holding  back 
also.  But,  after  what  seemed  like  a  moment's  hesi 
tation,  it  drifted  on  down  the  stream  and  vanished 
in  the  darkness. 

For  a  moment  longer,  Stewart  stared  after  it, 
half -expecting  it  to  reappear  and  bear  down  upon 
him.  Then,  with  an  anguished  breath  of  relief,  he 
stopped  swimming  and  looked  down  at  the  face  upon 
his  arm.  So  that  was  the  horror  which  had  beset 
her.  She  had  felt  it  nuzzling  against  her,  had  turned 
as  he  had  done !  No  wonder  she  had  screamed ! 

He  felt  her  bosom  rise  and  fall  with  a  quick  gasp ; 
then  her  eyes  opened  and  gazed  up  at  him.  For  an 
instant  they  gazed  vacantly  and  wildly,  then  a  flood 
of  crimson  swept  from  chin  to  brow,  and  she  strug 
gled  to  free  herself  from  his  encircling  arm. 

"  Easy  now !  "  Stewart  protested.  "  Are  you  sure 
you're  all  right  ?  Are  you  sure  you're  strong  enough 
to  hold  on?" 

"  Yes,  yes !  "  she  panted.     "  Let  me  go !  " 

He  guided  her  fingers  to  the  handles,  assured 
himself  that  she  grasped  them  firmly,  then  released 
her  and  swam  to  his  old  position  on  the  other  side 


252         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

of  the  box.    For  a  moment  they  floated  on  in  silence. 

"  How  foolish  of  me ! "  she  said,  at  last,  in  a 
choking  voice.  "  I  suppose  you  saved  my  life !  " 

"  Oh,  I  just  grabbed  you  by  the  arm  and  held  on 
to  you  till  you  came  to." 

"Did  I  scream?" 

"  I  should  rather  think  so !  Scared  me  nearly  to 
death!" 

"  I  could  not  help  it !  I  was  frightened.  It  was — 
it  was " 

"  I  know,"  said  Stewart,  quickly.  "  I  saw  it. 
Don't  think  about  it — it  has  gone  on  downstream." 

"  It — it  seemed  to  be  following  me !  "  she  gasped. 

"Yes — I  had  the  same  feeling;  but  it's  away 
ahead  of  us  now.  Now,  if  you're  all  right,  we'll 
work  in  toward  the  bank — it  can't  be  far  off.  Hullo ! 
What's  that?" 

A!  shadowy  shape  emerged  from  the  darkness 
along  the  eastern  shore,  and  they  caught  the  rattle 
of  oars  in  row-locks. 

"  They  heard  you  scream,"  whispered  Stewart. 
"  They've  sent  out  a  patrol  to  investigate,"  and  with 
all  his  strength  he  pushed  on  toward  the  farther 
bank. 

Suddenly  a  shaft  of  light  shot  from  the  bow  of  the 
boat  out  across  the  water,  sweeping  up  and  down, 


THE  LAST  DASH  253 

dwelling  upon  this  piece  of  driftwood  and  upon  that. 
With  a  gasp  of  apprehension,  Stewart  swung  the  box 
around  so  that  it  screened  them  from  the  search 
light,  and  kept  on  swimming  with  all  his  strength. 

"  If  they  spot  those  bundles,"  he  panted,  "  they'll 
be  down  upon  us  like  a  load  of  brick !  Ah !  " 

The  light  was  upon  them.  Above  their  heads  the 
bundles  of  clothing  stood  out  as  if  silhouetted  against 
the  midday  sky.  Stewart  cursed  his  folly  in  placing 
them  there;  surely  wet  clothes  were  preferable  to 
capture!  He  should  not  have  taken  the  risk — he 
should  have  put  the  clothing  inside  the  box  and  let 
it  take  its  chance.  But  it  was  too  late  now.  In 
another  moment 

The  light  swept  on. 

From  sheer  reaction,  Stewart's  body  dropped 
limply  for  an  instant  through  the  water,  and  then 
rebounded  as  from  an  electric  shock. 

"  I  can  touch  bottom !  "  he  said,  hoarsely.  "  We'll 
get  there  yet.  Hold  fast !  " 

Setting  his  teeth,  digging  his  toes  into  the  mud,  he 
dragged   the  box   toward   the   shore   with   all   his",; 
strength.     In  a  moment,  the  water  was  only  to  his 
shoulders — to  his  chest — he  could  see  that  his  com 
rade  was  wading,  too, 

He  stopped,  peering  anxiously  ahead.    There  was 


254        THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

no  light  anywhere  along  the  shore,  and  no  sound 
broke  the  stillness. 

"  It  seems  all  right,"  he  whispered.  "  I  will  go 
ahead  and  make  sure.  If  it  is  safe,  you  will  hear  me 
whistle.  Keep  behind  the  box,  for  fear  that  search 
light  will  sweep  this  way  again,  and  when  I  whistle, 
come  straight  out.  You  understand?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Good-by,  then,  for  a  moment,  little  comrade !  " 

"  Good-by." 

With  one  look  deep  into  her  eyes,  he  snatched  up 
the  bundle  containing  his  clothing,  and  crouching  as 
low  in  the  water  as  he  could,  set  off  cautiously 
toward  the  shore.  There  was  a  narrow  strip  of 
gravel  just  ahead,  and  behind  that  a  belt  of  darkness 
which,  he  told  himself,  was  a  wood.  He  could  see 
no  sign  of  any  sentry. 

As  he  turned  at  the  water's  edge,  he  noticed  a 
growing  band  of  light  over  the  hills  to  the  east,  and 
knew  that  the  moon  was  rising.  There  was  no  time 
to  lose!  He  whistled  softly  and  began  hastily  to 
'dress. 

Low  as  the  whistle  was,  it  reached  the  boat — or 
perhaps  it  was  mere  chance  that  brought  the  search 
light  sweeping  round  just  as  the  girl  rose  in  the 
water  and  started  toward  the  shore.  The  light 


THE  LAST  DASH  255 

swept  past  her,  swept  back  again,  and  stopped  full 
upon  the  flying  figure,  as  slim  and  graceful  as 
Diana's. 

There  was  a  hoarse  shout  from  the  boat,  and  the 
splash  of  straining  oars;  and  then  Stewart  was 
dashing  forward  into  the  water,  was  by  her  side,  had 
caught  her  hand  and  was  dragging  her  toward  the 
bank. 

"  Go  on!  Go  on!  "  he  cried,  and  paused  to  pick 
up  his  shoes,  for  the  sharp  gravel  warned  him,  that, 
with  unprotected  feet,  flight  would  be  impossible. 
His  coat  lay  beside  them  and  he  grabbed  that  too. 
Then  he  was  up  again  and  after  her,  across  the 
cruel  stones  of  the  shore,  toward  the  darkness  of  the 
wood  and  safety — one  yard — two  yards 

And  always  the  searchlight  beat  upon  them  merci 
lessly. 

There  came  a  roar  of  rifles  from  the  river,  a 
flash  of  flame,  the  whistle  of  bullets  about  his  ears. 

And  then  they  were  in  the  wood  and  he  had  her 
by  the  hand. 

'*  Not  hurt  ?  "  he  gasped. 

"  No,  no !  " 

"  Thank  heaven !  We  are  safe  for  a  moment. 
Get  on  some  clothes — especially  your  shoes.  We 
can't  run  barefooted! " 


'256        THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

He  was  fumbling  with  his  own  shoes  as  he  spoke 
—managed  to  thrust  his  bruised  feet  into  them — 
stuffed  his  socks  into  the  pocket  of  his  coat  and 
slipped  into  it. 

"Ready?  "he  asked. 

"  In  a  moment !  " 

And  then  he  felt  her  hand  in  his. 

"Which  way?" 

He  glanced  back  through  the  trees.  The  boat 
was  at  the  bank;  its  occupants  were  leaping  out, 
rifles  in  hand;  the  searchlight  swept  up  and  down. 

"  This  way,  I  think !  "  and  he  guided  her  diago 
nally  to  the  right.  "  Go  carefully !  The  less  noise 
we  make  the  better.  But  as  long  as  those  fellows 
keep  on  shooting,  they  can't  hear  us." 

Away  they  went,  stumbling,  scrambling,  bending 
low  to  escape  the  overhanging  branches,  saving  each 
other  from  some  ugly  falls — up  a  long  incline  cov 
ered  by  an  open  wood,  across  ,a  little  glade,  over  a 
wall,  through  another  strip  of  woodland,  into  a  road, 
over  another  wall — and  then  Stewart  gave  a  gasp  of 
relief,  for  they  were  in  a  field  of  grain. 

"  We  shall  be  safe  here,"  he  said,  as  they  plunged 
into  it.  "  I  will  watch,  while  you  finish  dressing," 
and  he  faced  back  toward  the  way  they  had  come. 

The  full  moon  was  sailing  high  above  the  eastern 


THE  LAST  DASH  257 

hills,  and  he  could  see  distinctly  the  wall  they  had 
just  crossed,  with  the  white  road  behind  it,  and  be 
yond  that  the  dense  shadow  of  the  wood.  It  was  on 
the  strip  of  road  he  kept  his  eyes,  but  no  living 
creature  crossed  it,  and  at  last  he  felt  a  touch  upon 
his  arm. 

"  My  turn  now !  "  the  girl  whispered. 

Stewart  sat  down  upon  the  ground,  wiped  the  mud 
from  his  feet,  shook  the  gravel  from  his  shoes,  drew 
on  his  socks  and  laced  his  shoes  properly.  As  he 
started  to  get  up,  he  felt  a  sudden  sharp  twinge  in 
his  shoulder. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  asked  the  girl,  quickly,  for  an  ex 
clamation  of  pain  had  burst  from  him  before  he 
could  choke  it  back. 

"  Nothing  at  all !  "  he  said,  and  rose,  gingerly. 
"  I  touched  a  raw  place,  where  a  briar  scratched  me. 
I  seem  to  be  composed  largely  of  raw  places — espe 
cially  as  to  my  feet.  How  are  yours  ?  " 

"  One  of  them  hurts  a  little — not  enough  to  men 
tion." 

"  You're  sure  you  can  walk?  " 

"  Certainly — or  run,  if  need  be." 

"  Then  we  had  better  push  on  a  little  farther. 
The  Germans  are  still  too  close  for  comfort.  Keep 
your  back  to  the  moon — I'll  act  as  rear-guard." 


258         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

For  a  moment  she  looked  up  questioningly  into  his 
face. 

"  You  are  sure  you  are  not  hurt?  "  she  asked. 

"  Perfectly  sure." 

(      "  I  was  afraid  you  had  been  shot — I  saw  how  yott 
placed  yourself  between  me  and  the  river!  " 

"  The  merest  accident,"  he  assured  her.  "  Be 
sides,  those  fellows  couldn't  shoot !  " 

She  gazed  up  at  him  yet  a  moment,  her  lips  quiv 
ering;  then  she  turned  and  started  westward  through 
the  field. 

Falling  in  behind,  Stewart  explored  his  wounded 
shoulder  cautiously  with  his  fingers.  He  could  feel 
that  his  shirt  was  wet  with  blood,  but  the  stabbing 
pain  had  been  succeeded  by  a  sharp  stinging  which 
convinced  him  that  it  was  only  a  flesh-wound. 
Folding  his  shirt  back,  he  found  it  at  last,  high  in 
the  shoulder  above  the  collar-bone. 

"  That  was  lucky!  "  he  told  himself,  as  he  pressed 
his  handkerchief  over  it,  rebuttoned  his  shirt,  and 
pushed  on  after  his  comrade.    "  Half  an  inch  lower 
•  and  the  bone  would  have  been  smashed !  " 

Away  to  the  south,  they  could  hear  the  thunder 
of  the  Liege  forts,  and  Stewart,  aching  from  his  own 
slight  injury,  thought  with  a  shudder  of  the  poor 
fellows  who  had  to  face  that  deadly  fire.  No  doubt 


THE  LAST  DASH  259 

it  was  to  this  fresh  attack  the  troops  had  been 
marched  which  they  had  seen  crossing  the  river.  It 
was  improbable  that  the  invaders  would  risk  pushing 
westward  until  the  forts  were  reduced;  and  so, 
when  the  fugitives  came  presently  to  a  road  which 
ran  northwestwardly,  they  ventured  to  follow  it. 

"  We  would  better  hide  somewhere  and  rest  till 
daylight,"  Stewart  suggested,  at  last.  "  We  have 
had  a  hard  day." 

He  himself  was  nearly  spent  with  fatigue  and 
hunger,  and  his  shoulder  was  stiff  and  sore. 

"  Very  well,"  the  girl  agreed.  "  I  too  am  very 
tired.  Where  shall  we  go  ?  " 

Stewart  stopped  and  looked  about  him. 

On  one  side  of  the  road  was  a  level  pasture  af 
fording  no  shelter;  on  the  other  side,  a  rolling  field 
mounted  to  a  strip  of  woodland. 

"  At  the  edge  of  those  trees  would  be  the  best 
place,"  he  decided,  and  the  girl  agreed  with  a  nod. 

Laboriously  they  clambered  over  the  wall  beside 
the  road  and  set  off  toward  this  refuge.  The  field 
was  very  rough  and  seemed  interminable,  and  more 
than  once  Stewart  thought  that  he  must  drop  where 
he  stood;  but  they  reached  the  wood  at  last  and  threw 
themselves  down  beneath  the  first  clump  of  under 
growth. 


260        THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

Stewart  was  asleep  almost  before  he  touched  the 
ground;  but  the  girl  lay  for  a  long  time  with  eyes 
open,  staring  up  into  the  night.  Then,  very  softly, 
she  crawled  to  Stewart's  side,  raised  herself  on  one 
elbow  and  looked  down  into  his  face. 

It  was  not  at  all  the  face  of  the  man  she  had  met 
at  the  Kolner  Hof  two  days  before.  It  was  thinner 
and  paler;  there  were  dark  circles  of  exhaustion 
under  the  eyes;  a  stubbly  beard  covered  the  haggard 
cheeks,  across  one  of  which  was  an  ugly  scratch. 
Yet  the  girl  seemed  to  find  it  beautiful.  Her  eyes 
filled  with  tears  as  she  gazed  at  it;  she  brushed 
back  a  lock  of  hair  that  had  fallen  over  the  fore 
head,  and  bent  as  though  to  press  a  kiss  there — but 
stopped,  with  a  quick  shake  of  the  head,  and  drew 
away. 

"Not  yet!"  she  whispered.  "Not  yet!"  and 
crawling  a  little  way  apart,  she  lay  down  again 
among  the  bushes. 

Again  Stewart  awoke  with  the  sun  in  his  eyes,  and 
after  a  moment's  confused  blinking,  he  looked 
around  to  find  himself  alone. 

The  dull  pain  in  his  shoulder  as  he  sat  up  reminded 
him  of  his  wound.  Crawling  a  little  distance  back 
among  the  bushes,  he  slipped  out  of  his  coat. 


THE  LAST  DASH  261 

His  shirt  was  soaked  with  blood  half-way  down  the 
right  side — a  good  sign,  Stewart  told  himself.  He 
knew  how  great  a  show  a  little  blood  can  make, 
and  he  was  glad  that  the  wound  had  bled  freely.  He 
unbuttoned  his  shirt  and  gingerly  pulled  it  back 
from  the  shoulder,  for  the  blood  had  dried  in  places 
and  stuck  fast;  then  he  removed  the  folded  hand 
kerchief,  and  the  wound  lay  revealed. 

He  could  just  see  it  by  twisting  his  head  around, 
and  he  regarded  it  with  satisfaction,  for,  as  he  had 
thought,  it  was  not  much  more  than  a  scratch.  A 
bullet  had  grazed  the  shoulder-bone,  plowed  through 
the  muscle  and  sped  on  its  way,  leaving  behind,  as 
the  only  sign  of  its  passage,  a  tiny  black  mark. 

"  You  are  wounded !  "  cried  a  strangled  voice,  and 
in  an  instant  his  comrade  was  on  her  knees  beside 
him,  her  face  pale,  her  lips  working.  "  And  you 
did  not  tell  me !  Oh,  cruel,  cruel !  " 

There  was  that  in  the  voice,  in  the  eyes,  in  the 
trembling  lips  which  sent  Stewart's  heart  leaping 
into  his  throat.  But,  by  a  mighty  effort,  he  kept 
his  arms  from  around  her. 

"  Nonsense ! "  he  said,  as  lightly  as  he  could. 
"  That's  not  a  wound — it  is  just  a  scratch.  This  one 
across  my  cheek  hurts  a  blamed  sight  worse!  If  I 
could  only  wash  it " 


262         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

"  There  is  a  little  stream  back  yonder,"  she  said, 
and  sprang  to  her  feet.  "  Come !  Or  perhaps  you 
cannot  walk !  "  and  she  put  her  arms  around  him  to 
help  him  up. 

He  rose  with  a  laugh. 

"  Really,"  he  protested,  "  I  don't  see  how  a  scratch 
on  the  shoulder  could  affect  my  legs !  " 

But  she  refused  to  make  a  jest  of  it. 

"  The  blood — it  frightens  me.  Are  you  very 
weak  ?  "  she  asked,  anxiously,  holding  tight  to  him, 
as  though  he  might  collapse  at  any  instant. 

"  If  I  am,"  said  Stewart,  "  it  is  from  want  of 
food,  not  from  loss  of  blood.  I  haven't  lost  a  spoon 
ful.  Ah,  here's  the  brook !  " 

He  knelt  beside  it,  while  she  washed  the  blood 
from  his  handkerchief  and  tenderly  bathed  the  in 
jured  shoulder.  Stewart  watched  her  with  fast- 
beating  heart.  Surely  she  cared;  surely  there  was 
more  than  friendly  concern  in  that  white  face,  in 
those  quivering  lips.  Well,  very  soon  now,  he 
could  put  it  to  the  touch.  He  trembled  at  the 
thought:  would  he  win  or  lose? 

"Am  I  hurting  you?"  she  asked,  anxiously,  for 
she  had  felt  him  quiver. 

"  Not  a  bit — the  cool  water  feels  delightful.  You 
see  it  is  only  a  scratch,"  he  added,  when  the  clotted 


THE  LAST  DASH  263 

blood  had  been  cleared  away.  "  It  will  be  quite  well 
in  two  or  three  days.  I  sha'n't  even  have  a  scar! 
I  think  it  might  have  left  a  scar !  What's  the  use  of 
being  wounded,  if  one  hasn't  a  scar  to  show  for  it? 
And  I  shall  probably  never  be  under  fire  again !  " 

She  smiled  wanly,  and  a  little  color  crept  back 
into  her  face. 

"  How  you  frightened  me !  "  she  said.  "  I  came 
through  the  bushes  and  saw  you  sitting  there,  all 
covered  with  blood!  You  might  have  told  me — it 
was  foolish  to  lie  there  all  night  without  binding  it 
up.  Suppose  you  had  bled  to  death ! "  and  she 
wrung  out  the  handkerchief,  shook  it  out  in  the 
breeze  until  it  was  nearly  dry,  and  bound  it  tightly 
over  the  wound.  "  How  does  that  feel  ?  " 

"  It  feels  splendid !  Really  it  does,"  he  added, 
seeing  that  she  regarded  him  doubtfully.  "  If  I 
feel  the  least  little  twinge  of  pain,  I  will  notify 
/you  instantly.  I  give  you  my  word !  " 

They  sat  for  a  moment  silent,  gazing  into  each 
other's  eyes.  It  was  the  girl  who  stirred  first. 

"  I  will  go  to  the  edge  of  the  wood  and  recon- 
noiter,"  she  said,  rising  a  little  unsteadily,  "  while 
you  wash  your  hands  and  face.  Or  shall  I  stay  and 
help?" 

"  No,"  said  Stewart,  "  thank  you.     I  think  I  am 


264         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

still  able  to  wash  my  own  face — that  is,  if  you  think 
it's  any  use  to  wash  it !  "  and  he  ran  his  fingers  along 
his  stubbly  jaws.  "  Do  you  think  you  will  like 
me  with  a  beard  ?  " 

"  With  a  beard  or  without  one,  it  is  all  the  same !  "' 
she  answered,  softly,  and  slipped  quickly  away 
among  the  trees,  leaving  Stewart  to  make  what  he 
could  of  this  cryptic  utterance. 

Despite  his  gnawing  hunger,  despite  his  stiff 
shoulder  and  sore  muscles,  he  was  very,  very  happy 
as  he  bent  above  the  clear  water  and  drank  deep,  and 
bathed  hands  and  face.  How  good  it  was  to  be 
alive !  How  good  it  was  to  be  just  here  this  glori 
ous  morning !  With  no  man  on  earth  would  he  have 
changed  places! 

He  did  not  linger  over  his  toilet.  Every  moment 
away  from  his  comrade  was  a  moment  lost.  He 
found  her  sitting  at  the  edge  of  the  wood,  gazing 
down  across  the  valley,  her  hair  stirring  slightly  in 
the  breeze,  her  whole  being  radiant  with  youth.  He 
looked  at  her  for  a  moment,  and  then  he  looked  down 
at  himself.  < 

"  What  a  scarecrow  I  am,"  he  said,  and  ruefully 
contemplated  a  long  tear  in  his  coat — merely  the 
largest  of  half  a  dozen.  "  And  I  lost  my  collar  in 
that  dash  last  night — I  left  it  on  the  bank,  and  didn't 


THE  LAST  DASH  265 

dare  stop  to  look  for  it.  Even  if  we  met  the  Ger 
mans  now,  there  would  be  no  danger — they  would 
take  us  for  tramps !  " 

"  I  know  I  look  like  a  scarecrow,"  she  laughed ; 
"  but  you  might  have  spared  telling  me !  " 

"  You !  "  cried  Stewart.  "  A  scarecrow !  Oh,  no; 
you  would  attract  the  birds.  They  would  find  you 
adorable ! " 

His  eyes  added  that  not  alone  to  the  birds  was  she 
adorable. 

She  cast  one  glance  at  him — a  luminous  glance, 
shy  yet  glad;  abashed  yet  rejoicing.  Then  she 
turned  away. 

"  There  is  a  village  over  yonder,"  she  said.  "  We 
can  get  something  to  eat  there,  and  find  out  where 
we  are.  Listen !  What  is  that  ?  " 

Away  to  the  south  a  dull  rumbling  shook  the  hori 
zon — a  mighty  shock  as  of  an  earthquake. 

"  The  Germans  have  got  their  siege-guns  into  posi 
tion,"  he  said.  "  They  are  attacking  Liege  again." 

Yes,  there  could  be  no  doubt  of  it;  murder  and 
desolation  were  stalking  across  the  country  to  the 
south.  But  nothing  could  be  more  peaceful  than  the 
fields  which  stretched  before  them. 

"  There  is  no  danger  here,"  said  Stewart,  and  led 
the  way  down  across  the  rough  pasture  to  the  road. 


266         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

As  he  mounted  the  wall,  moved  by  some  strange 
uneasiness,  he  stopped  to  look  back  toward  the  east; 
but  the  road  stretched  white  and  empty  until  it 
plunged  into  a  strip  of  woodland  a  mile  away. 

Somehow  he  was  not  reassured.  With  that 
strange  uneasiness  still  weighing  on  him,  a  sense  of 
oppression  as  of  an  approaching  storm,  he  sprang 
down  beside  the  girl,  and  they  set  off  westward  side 
by  side.  At  first  they  could  not  see  the  village, 
which  was  hid  by  a  spur  of  rising  ground ;  then,  at 
a  turn  of  the  road,  they  found  it  close  in  front  of 
them. 

But  the  road  was  blocked  with  fallen  trees,  strung 
with  barbed  wire — and  what  was  that  queer  embank 
ment  of  fresh,  yellow  earth  which  stretched  to  right 
and  left? 

"  The  Belgians !  "  cried  the  girl.  "  Come !  We 
are  safe  at  last ! "  and  she  started  to  run  forward. 

But  only  for  an  instant.  As  though  that  cry  of 
hers  was  an  awaited  signal,  there  came  a  crash  of 
musketry  from  the  wooded  ridge  to  the  right,  and 
an  answering  crash  from  the  crest  of  the  embank 
ment  ;  and  Stewart  saw  that  light  and  speeding  figure 
spin  half  round,  crumple  in  upon  itself,  and  drop 
limply  to  the  road. 


CHAPTER  XV 
DISASTER 

HE  was  beside  her  in  an  instant,  his  arm  around  her, 
raising  her.  He  scarcely  heard  the  guns ;  he  scarcely 
heard  the  whistle  of  the  bullets ;  he  knew  only,  as  he 
knelt  there  in  the  road,  that  his  little  comrade  had 
been  stricken  down. 

Where  was  she  wounded? 

Not  in  the  head,  thank  God !  Not  in  the  throat,  so 
white  and  delicate.  The  breast,  perhaps,  and  with 
trembling  fingers  he  tore  aside  the  coat. 

She  opened  her  eyes  and  looked  dazedly  up  at 
him. 

"  Qu'y  a-t-ilf  "  she  murmured.  Then  her  vision 
cleared.  "  What  is  the  matter  ?  "  she  asked  in  a 
stronger  voice. 

"  You've  been  hit,"  he  panted.  "  Do  you  feel 
pain?" 

She  closed  her  eyes  for  an  instant. 

"  No,"  she  answered ;  "  but  my  left  leg  is  numb,  as 

if " 

267 


268         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

"  Pray  heaven  it  is  only  in  the  leg !     I  must  get 

you  somewhere  out  of  this."    He  raised  his  head  to 

look  around,   and  was   suddenly  conscious  of  the 

;  banging  guns.     "Damn  these  lunatics!     Oh,  damn 

them !  " 

The  ridges  on  either  side  were  rimmed  with  fire. 
He  cast  a  glance  behind  him  and  his  heart  stood  still, 
for  a  troop  of  cavalry  was  deploying  into  the  road. 
Forward,  then,  to  the  village,  since  that  was  the  only 
way. 

He  stooped  to  lift  her. 

"  I  may  hurt  you  a  little,"  he  said. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  ?  " 

"  I'm  going  to  carry  you  to  the  village.  Here, 
wave  your  handkerchief  to  show  them  that  we  are 
friends,"  and  he  drew  it  from  her  pocket  and  thrust 
it  into  her  hand.  "  Now,  your  arm  about  my  neck." 

She  obeyed  mutely;  then,  as  he  straightened  up, 
she  saw,  over  his  shoulder,  the  cavalry  forming  for 
the  charge. 

"  No,  no !  "  she  cried.  "  Put  me  down.  Here  are 
the  letters !  See,  I  am  placing  them  in  your  pocket ! 
Now,  put  me  down  and  save  yourself! " 

He  was  picking  his  way  forward  over  the  barbed 
wire.  He  dared  not  lift  his  eyes  from  the  road 
even  for  a  glance  at  her. 


DISASTER  269 

"  Be  still !  "  he  commanded.  "  Don't  struggle  so ! 
I  will  not  put  you  down !  Wave  the  handkerchief !  " 

"  There  is  cavalry  down  yonder,"  she  protested, 
wildly.  "  It  will  charge  in  a  moment !  " 

"  I  know  it !  That's  one  reason  I  will  not  put  you 
down !  " 

He  was  past  the  wire ;  he  could  look  at  her  for  an 
instant — into  her  eyes,  so  close  to  his ;  deep  into  her 
eyes,  dark  with  fear  and  pain. 

"  Another  reason  is,"  he  said,  deliberately,  "  that 
I  love  you !  I  am  telling  you  now  because  I  want  you 
to  know,  if  this  should  be  the  end !  I  love  you,  love 
you,  love  you !  " 

He  was  forced  to  look  away  from  her,  for  there 
were  fallen  trees  in  front,  but  he  felt  the  arm  around 
his  neck  tighten. 

And  then  he  bent  his  head  and  kissed  her. 

"  Like  that !  "  he  said,  hoarsely.  "  Only  a  thou 
sand  times  more  than  that — a  million  times  more 
than  that ! " 

She  pulled  herself  up  until  her  cheek  was  pressed 
to  his;  and  her  eyes  were  like  twin  stars. 

"  And  I !  "  she  whispered.  "  A  million  times  more 
than  that.  Oh,  my  prince,  my  lover !  " 

Stewart's  veins  ran  fire.  His  fatigue  dropped 
from  him.  He  trod  on  air.  He  threw  back  his  head 


270         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

proudly,  for  he  felt  himself  invincible.  He  was 
contemptuous  of  fate — it  could  not  harm  him  now! 

"  And  yet  you  wanted  me  to  put  you  down !  "  he 
mocked. 

She  snuggled  against  him,  warm  and  womanly; 
she  gave  herself  to  him. 

"  Oh,  hold  me  close !  "  she  seemed  to  say.  "  Hold 
me  close,  close !  I  am  yours  now !  " 

"Wave  the  handkerchief!"  he  added.  "  We're 
getting  near  the  barricade.  Life  is  too  sweet  to  end 
just  yet!" 

She  smiled  up  into  his  eyes,  and  waved  the  hand 
kerchief  at  arm's  length  above  their  heads.  Stew 
art,  glancing  up,  saw  a  row  of  faces  crowned  by 
queer  black  shakos  peering  curiously  down  from  the 
top  of  the  barricade. 

"  They  have  seen  us !  "  he  said.  "  They're  not 
firing!  They  understand  that  we  are  friends! 
Courage,  little  comrade !  " 

"  I  am  not  afraid,"  she  smiled.  "  And  I  love  that 
name — little  comrade !  " 

"  Here  are  the  last  entanglements — and  then  we're 
through.  What  is  that  cavalry  doing?  " 

She  gave  a  little  cry  as  she  looked  back  along  the 
road.  At  the  same  instant,  Stewart  heard  the  thun 
der  of  galloping  hoofs. 


DISASTER  271 

"  They  are  coming !  "  she  screamed.  "  Oh,  put 
me  down !  Put  me  down !  " 

"  Not  I !  "  gasped  Stewart  between  his  teeth,  and 
glanced  over  his  shoulder. 

The  Uhlans  were  charging  in  solid  mass,  their 
lances  couched. 

There  was  just  one  chance  of  escape — Stewart 
saw  it  instantly.  Holding  the  girl  close,  he  leaped 
into  the  ditch  beside  the  road  and  threw  himself 
flat  against  the  ground,  shielding  her  with  his  body. 

In  an  instant  the  thunder  of  the  charge  was  upon 
him.  Then,  high  above  the  rattle  of  guns,  rose  the 
shouts  of  men,  the  screams  of  horses,  the  savage 
shock  of  the  encounter.  Something  rolled  upon 
him, — lay  quivering  against  him — a  wounded  man — 
a  dead  one,  perhaps — in  any  event,  he  told  himself, 
grimly,  so  much  added  protection.  Pray  heaven  that 
a  maddened  horse  did  not  tramp  them  down ! 

The  tumult  died,  the  firing  slackened.  What  was 
that?  A  burst  of  cheering? 

Stewart  ventured  to  raise  his  head  and  look  about .' 
him;  then,  with  a  gasp,  he  threw  off  the  weight, 
caught  up  his  companion  and  staggered  to  his  feet. 
Yes ;  it  was  a  body  which  had  fallen  upon  him.  It 
rolled  slowly  over  on  its  back  as  he  arose,  and  he  saw 
a  ghastly  wound  between  the  eyes. 


272        THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

"  They  have  been  repulsed  !  "  he  panted.  "  Wave 
the  handkerchief !  "  With  his  heart  straining  in  his 
throat,  he  clambered  out  of  the  ditch  and  staggered 
on.  "  Don't  look !  "  he  added,  for  the  road  was 
strewn  with  horrors.  "  Don't  look !  " 

She  gazed  up  at  him,  smiling  calmly. 

"  I  shall  look  only  at  you,  my  lover !  "  she  said, 
softly,  and  Stewart  tightened  his  grip  and  held  her 
close ! 

There  was  the  barricade,  with  cheering  men  atop 
it,  exposing  themselves  with  utter  recklessness  to  the 
bullets  which  still  whistled  from  right  and  left. 
Stewart  felt  his  knees  trembling.  Could  he  reach  it  ? 
Could  he  lift  his  foot  over  this  entanglement  ?  Could 
he  possibly  step  across  this  body? 

Suddenly  he  felt  his  burden  lifted  from  him  and 
a  strong  arm  thrown  about  his  shoulders. 

"  Friends !  "  he  gasped.     "  We're  friends !  " 

Then  he  heard  the  girl's  clear  voice  speaking  in 
rapid  French,  and  men's  voices  answering  eagerly. 
The  mist  cleared  a  little  from  before  his  eyes,  and 
he  found  that  the  arm  about  his  shoulders  belonged 
to  a  stocky  Belgian  soldier  who  was  leading  him  past 
one  end  of  the  barricade,  close  behind  another  who 
bore  the  girl  in  his  arms. 

At  the  other  side  an  officer  stopped  them. 


DISASTER  273 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  he  asked  in  French.  "  From 
where  do  you  come  ?  " 

"  We  are  friends,"  said  the  girl.  "  We  have  fled 
from  Germany.  We  have  both  been  wounded." 

"  Yes,"  said  Stewart,  and  showed  his  blood 
stained  shirt.  "  Mine  is  only  a  scratch,  but  my 
comrade  needs  attention." 

A  sudden  shout  from  the  top  of  the  barricade 
told  that  the  Uhlans  were  re-forming. 

"  You  must  look  out  for  yourselves,"  said  the  offi 
cer.  "  I  will  hear  your  story  later,"  and  he  bounded 
back  to  his  place  beside  his  men. 

The  soldier  who  was  carrying  the  girl  dropped  her 
abruptly  into  Stewart's  arms  and  followed  his  cap 
tain.  In  an  instant  the  firing  recommenced. 

Stewart  looked  wildly  about  him.  He  was  in  a 
village  street,  with  close-built  houses  on  either  side. 

"  I  must  find  a  wagon,"  he  gasped,  "  or  some 
thing " 

His  breath  failed  him,  but  he  staggered  on.  The 
mist  was  before  his  eyes  again,  his  tongue  seemed 
dry  and  swollen. 

Suddenly  the  arm.'  about  his  neck  relaxed,  the 
head  fell  back 

He  cast  one  haggard  glance  down  into  the  white 
face,  then  turned  through  the  nearest  doorway. 


274        THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

Perhaps  she  was  wounded  more  seriously  than  he 
had  thought — perhaps  she  had  not  told  him.  He 
must  see — he  must  make  sure 

He  found  himself  in  a  tiled  passage,  opening  into 
a  low-ceilinged  room  lighted  by  a  single  window. 
For  an  instant,  in  the  semi-darkness,  he  stared 
blindly;  then  he  saw  a  low  settle  against  the  far 
ther  wall,  and  upon  this  he  gently  laid  his  burden. 

Before  he  could  catch  himself,  he  had  fallen 
heavily  to  the  floor,  and  lay  there  for  a  moment,  too 
weak  to  rise.  But  the  weakness  passed.  With  set 
teeth,  he  pulled  himself  to  his  knees,  got  out  his 
knife,  found,  with  his  fingers,  the  stain  of  blood 
above  the  wound  in  the  leg,  and  quickly  ripped  away 
the  cloth. 

The  bullet  had  passed  through  the  thickness  of 
the  thigh,  leaving  a  tiny  puncture.  With  a  sob  of 
thankfulness,  he  realized  that  the  wound  was  not 
dangerous.  Blood  was  still  oozing  slowly  from  it — 
it  must  be  washed  and  dressed. 

He  found  a  pail  of  water  in  the  kitchen,  snatched 
a  sheet  from  a  bed  in  another  room,  and  set  to 
work.  The  familiar  labor  steadied  him,  the  mists 
cleared,  his  muscles  again  obeyed  his  will,  the  sense 
of  exhaustion  passed. 

"  It  is  only  a  scratch !  "  whispered  a  voice,  and  he 


DISASTER  275 

turned  sharply  to  find  her  smiling  up  at  him.  "  It 
is  just  a  scratch  like  yours !  " 

"It  is  much  more  than  a  scratch!"  he  said, 
sternly.  "  You  must  lie  still,  or  you  will  start  the 
bleeding." 

"  Tyrant !  "  she  retorted,  and  then  she  raised  her 
head  and  looked  to  see  what  he  was  doing.  "  Oh ! 
is  it  there  ?  "  she  said,  in  surprise.  "  I  didn't  feel  it 
there!" 

"  Where  did  you  feel  it  ?  "  Stewart  demanded. 
"  Not  in  the  body?  Tell  me  the  truth !  " 

"  It  seemed  to  me  to  be  somewhere  below  the  knee. 
But  how  savage  you  are !  " 

"  I'm  savage  because  you  are  hurt.  I  can't  stand 
it  to  see  you  suffer !  "  and  with  lips  compressed,  he 
bandaged  the  wound  with  some  strips  torn  from  the 
sheet.  Then  he  ran  his  fingers  down  over  the  calf, 
and  brought  them  away  stained  with  blood.  He 
caught  up  his  knife  and  ripped  the  cloth  clear  down. 

"  Really,"  she  protested,  "  I  shall  not  have  any 
clothing  left,  if  you  keep  on  like  that!  I  do  not  see 
jhow  I  am  going  to  appear  in  public  as  it  is !  " 

He  grimly  washed  the  blood  away  without  reply 
ing.  On  either  side  of  the  calf,  he  found  a  tiny 
black  spot  where  the  second  bullet  had  passed 
through. 


276        THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

"  These  German  bullets  seem  to  be  about  the  size 
of  peas,"  he  remarked,  as  he  bandaged  the  leg;  then 
he  raised  his  head  and  listened,  as  the  firing  out 
side  rose  to  a  furious  crescendo.  "  They're  at  it 
again!"  he  added.  "We  must  be  getting  out  of 
this!" 

She  reached  up,  caught  him  by  the  coat,  and  drew 
him  down  to  her. 

"  Listen,"  she  said.  "  The  letters  are  in  your 
pocket.  Should  we  be  separated " 

"  We  will  not  be  separated,"  he  broke  in,  impa 
tiently.  "  Do  you  suppose  I  would  permit  anything 
to  separate  us  now  ?  " 

"  I  know,  dear  one,"  she  said,  softly.  "  But  if 
we  should  be,  you  will  carry  the  letters  to  General 
Joffre  ?  Oh,  do  not  hesitate !  "  she  cried.  "  Prom 
ise  me !  They  mean  so  much  to  me — my  life's  work 
— all  my  ambitions — all  my  hopes "  i 

"Very  well,"  he  said.    "  I  promise." 

'  You  have  not  forgotten  the  sign  and  the  for 
mula?" 

"  No." 

She  passed  an  arm  about  his  neck  and  drew  him 
still  closer. 

"  Kiss  me !  "  she  whispered. 

And    Stewart,    shaken,    transported,    deliriously 


DISASTER  277 

happy,  pressed  his  lips  to  hers  in  a  long,  close,  pas 
sionate  embrace. 

At  last  she  drew  her  arm  away. 

"  I  am  very  tired,"  she  whispered,  smiling  dream 
ily  up  at  him ;  "  and  very,  very  happy.  I  do  not  be 
lieve  I  can  go  on,  dear  one." 

"  I  will  get  a  wagon  of  some  kind — a  hand-cart, 
if  nothing  better.  There  must  be  ambulances  some 
where  about " 

He  paused,  listening,  for  the  firing  at  the  barri 
cade  had  started  furiously  again. 

"  I  will  be  back  in  a  moment,"  he  said,  and  ran 
to  the  street  door  and  looked  out.  As  he  did  so,  a 
wounded  soldier  hobbled  past,  using  his  rifle  as  a 
crutch. 

"How  goes  it?"  Stewart  inquired,  in  French. 

"  We  hold  them  off,"  answered  the  soldier,  smil 
ing  cheerfully,  though  his  face  was  drawn  with 
pain. 

"  Will  they  break  through?  " 

"  No.  Our  reinforcements  are  coming  up,"  and 
the  little  soldier  hobbled  away  down  the  street. 

"  I  should  have  asked  him  where  the  ambulances 
are,"  thought  Stewart.  He  glanced  again  toward 
the  barricade.  The  firing  had  slackened;  evidently 
the  assailants  had  again  been  repulsed.  Yes,  there 


278         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

was  time,  and  he  darted  down  the  street  after  the 
limping  soldier.  He  was  at  his  side  in  a  moment, 
"  Where  are  the  ambulances  ?  "  he  asked. 

The  soldier,  turning  to  reply,  glanced  back  along 
the  street  and  his  face  went  livid. 

"  Ah,  good  God !  "  he  groaned.    "  Look  yonder !  " 

And,  looking,  Stewart  beheld  a  gray-green  flood 
pouring  over  the  barricade,  beheld  the  flash  of  red 
dened  bayonets,  beheld  the  little  band  of  Belgians 
swept  backward. 

With  a  cry  of  anguish,  he  sprang  back  along  the 
street,  but  in  an  instant  the  tide  was  upon  him.  He 
fought  against  it  furiously,  striking,  cursing,  pray 
ing 

And  suddenly  he  found  himself  face  to  face  with 
the  Belgian  officer,  blood-stained,  demoniac,  shout 
ing  encouragement  to  his  men.  His  eyes  flashed 
with  amazement  when  he  saw  Stewart. 

"  Go  back !     Go  back !  "  he  shouted. 

"  My  comrade  is  back  there !  "  panted  Stewart, 
and  tried  to  pass. 

But  the  officer  caught  his  arm. 

"Madman!"  he  cried.  "It  is  death  to  go  that 
way!" 

"What  is  that  to  me?"  retorted  Stewart,  and 
wrenched  his  arm  away. 


DISASTER  279 

The  officer  watched  him  for  an  instant,  then 
turned  away  with  a  shrug.  After  all,  he  reflected,  it 
was  none  of  his  affair;  his  task  was  to  hold  the  Ger 
mans  back,  and  he  threw  himself  into  it. 

"  Steady,  men !  "  he  shouted.  "  Steady !  Our 
reserves  are  coming !  " 

And  his  men  cheered  and  held  a  firm  front,  though 
it  cost  them  dear — so  firm  and  steady  that  Stewart 
found  he  could  not  get  past  it,  but  was  carried  back 
foot  by  foot,  too  exhausted  to  resist,  entangled  hope 
lessly  in  the  retreat.  The  Germans  pressed  forward, 
filling  the  street  from  side  to  side,  compact,  irresist 
ible. 

And  then  the  Belgians  heard  behind  them  the  gal 
lop  of  horses,  the  roll  of  heavy  wheels,  and  their  cap 
tain,  glancing  back,  saw  that  a  quick-firer  had  swung 
into  position  in  the  middle  of  the  street. 

"  Steady,  men !  "  he  shouted.  "  We  have  them 
now !  Steady  till  I  give  the  word !  "  He  glanced 
back  again  and  caught  the  gun-captain's  nod. 
"  Now !  To  the  side  and  back !  "  he  screamed. 

The  men,  with  a  savage  cheer,  sprang  to  right  and 
left,  into  doorways,  close  against  the  walls,  and  the 
gun,  with  a  purr  of  delight,  let  loose  its  lightnings 
into  the  advancing  horde. 

Stewart,   who   had  been  swept  aside   with  the 


28o        THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

others  without  understanding  what  was  happening, 
gasping,  rubbing  his  eyes,  staring  down  the  street, 
saw  the  gray  line  suddenly  stop  and  crumple  up. 
Then,  with  a  savage  yell,  it  dashed  forward  and 
stopped  again.  He  saw  an  officer  raise  his  sword 
to  urge  them  on,  then  fall  crashing  to  the  street ;  he 
saw  that  instant  of  indecision  which  is  fatal  to  any 
charge ;  and  then  stark  terror  ran  through  the  ranks, 
and  they  turned  to  flee. 

But  the  pressure  from  the  rear  cut  off  escape  in 
that  direction,  and  the  human  flood  burst  into  the 
houses  on  either  side,  swept  through  them,  out  across 
the  fields,  and  away.  And  steadily  the  little  gun 
purred  on,  as  though  reveling  in  its  awful  work, 
until  the  street  was  clear. 

But  the  Germans,  though  they  had  suffered  ter 
ribly,  were  not  yet  routed.  A  remnant  of  them  held 
together  behind  the  houses  at  the  end  of  the  street, 
and  still  others  took  up  a  position  behind  the  bar 
ricade  and  swept  the  street  with  their  rifles. 

The  little  officer  bit  his  lip  in  perplexity  as  he 
looked  about  at  his  company,  so  sadly  reduced  in 
numbers.  Should  he  try  to  retake  the  barricade 
with  a  rush,  or  should  he  wait  for  reinforcements? 
He  loved  his  men — surely,  they  had  more  than 
played  their  part.  Then  his  eye  was  caught  by  a 


DISASTER  281 

bent  figure  which  dodged  from  doorway  to  door 
way. 

"  That  madman  again ! "  he  muttered,  and 
watched,  expecting  every  instant  to  see  him 
fall. 

For  Stewart  had  not  waited  for  the  captain's  de 
cision.  Almost  before  the  Germans  turned  to  flee, 
he  was  creeping  low  along  the  wall,  taking  advantage 
of  such  shelter  as  there  was.  The  whistle  of  the 
machine-gun's  bullets  filled  the  street.  One  nipped 
him  across  the  wrist,  another  grazed  his  arm,  and 
then,  as  the  Germans  rallied,  he  saw  ahead  of  him  the 
vicious  flashes  of  their  rifles. 

He  was  not  afraid;  indeed,  he  was  strangely  calm. 
He  was  quite  certain  that  he  would  not  be  killed — 
others  might  fall,  but  not  he.  Others — yes,  here 
they  were;  dozens,  scores,  piled  from  wall  to  wall. 
For  here  was  where  the  machine-gun  had  caught  the 
German  advance  and  smote  it  down.  They  lay  piled 
one  upon  another,  young  men,  all  of  them;  some 
lying  with  arms  flung  wide,  staring  blindly  up  at  the 
sky ;  a  few  moaning  feebly,  knowing  only  that  they 
suffered ;  two  or  three  trying  to  pull  themselves  from 
beneath  the  heap  of  dead;  one  coward  burrowing 
deeper  into  it !  He  could  hear  the  thud,  thud  of  the 
bullets  from  either  end  of  the  street  as  they  struck 


282         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

the  mass  of  bodies,  dead  and  wounded  alike,  until 
there  were  no  longer  any  wounded;  until  even  the 
coward  lay  still ! 

Sick  and  dizzy,  he  pushed  on.  Was  this  the 
house  ?  The  door  stood  open  and  he  stepped  inside 
and  looked  around.  No,  this  was  not  it. 

The  next  one,  perhaps — all  these  houses  looked 
alike  from  the  street.  As  he  reached  the  door,  a 
swirl  of  acrid  smoke  beat  into  his  face.  He  looked 
out  quickly.  The  barricade  was  obscured  by  smoke ; 
dense  masses  rolled  out  of  the  houses  on  either  side. 
The  Germans  had  fired  the  village! 

Into  the  next  house  Stewart  staggered — vainly; 
and  into  the  next.  He  could  hear  the  crackling  of 
the  flames ;  the  smoke  grew  thicker 

Into  the  next! 

He  knew  it  the  instant  he  crossed  the  threshold; 
yes,  this  was  the  entry,  this  was  the  room,  there  was 
the  settle 

He  stopped,  staring,  gasping 

The  settle  was  empty. 

Slowly  he  stepped  forward,  gazing  about  him. 
Yes,  there  was  the  bucket  of  water  on  the  floor, 
just  as  he  had  left  it;  there  were  the  blood-stained 
rags ;  there  was  the  torn  sheet. 

But  the  settle  was  empty. 


DISASTER  283 

He  threw  himself  beside  it  and  ran  his  hands  over 
it,  to  be  sure  that  his  eyes  were  not  deceiving 
him. 

No;  the  settle  was  empty. 

He  ran  into  the  next  room  and  the  next.  He  ran 
all  through  the  house  calling,  "  Comrade !  Little 
comrade ! " 

But  there  was  no  reply.  The  rooms  were  empty, 
one  and  all. 

Half-suffocated,  palsied  with  despair,  he  reeled 
back  to  the  room  where  he  had  left  her,  and  stared 
about  it.  Could  he  be  mistaken?  No;  there  was 
the  bucket,  the  bandages 

But  what  was  that  dark  stain  in  the  middle  of  the 
white,  sanded  floor.  He  drew  close  and  looked  at  it. 
It  was  blood. 

Still  staring,  he  backed  away.  Blood — whose 
blood  ?  Not  hers !  Not  his  little  comrade's ! 

And  suddenly  his  strength  fell  from  him ;  he  stag 
gered,  dropped  to  his  knees 

This  was  the  end,  then — this  was  the  end.  There 
on  the  settle  was  where  she  had  lain;  it  was  there 
she  had  drawn  him  down  for  that  last  caress;  and 
the  letters, — ah,  they  would  never  be  delivered  now ! 
But  at  least  he  could  die  there,  with  his  head  where 
hers  had  been. 


284         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

Blinded,  choking,  he  dragged  himself  forward — 
here  was  the  place! 

"  Little  comrade !  "  he  murmured.  "  Little  com 
rade!" 

And  he  fell  forward  across  the  settle,  his  face 
buried  in  his  arms. 


CHAPTER  XVI 
A  TRUST  FULFILLED 

WHEN  Stewart  opened  his  eyes  again  it  was  to  find 
himself  looking  up  into  a  good-humored  face,  which 
he  did  not  at  first  recognize.  It  was  brown  and 
dirty,  there  wras  a  three-days'  growth  of  beard  upon 
cheeks  and  chin,  and  a  deep  red  scratch  across  the 
forehead,  but  the  eyes  were  bright  and  the  lips 
smiling,  as  of  a  man  superior  to  every  fortune — and 
then  he  recognized  the  little  Belgian  captain  whose 
troops  had  defended  the  village. 

Instantly  memory  surged  back  upon  him — mem 
ory  bitter  and  painful.  He  raised  his  head  and 
looked  about  him.  He  was  lying  under  a  clump  of 
trees  not  far  from  the  bank  of  a  little  stream,  along 
which  a  company  of  Belgian  soldiers  were  busy 
throwing  up  intrenchments. 

"  Ah,  so  you  are  better !  "  said  the  captain,  in  his 
clipped  French,  his  eyes  beaming  with  satisfaction. 
"  That  is  good !  A  little  more  of  that  smoke,  and 
it  would  have  been  all  over  with  you !  "  and  he  ges- 

285 


286         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

tured  toward  the  eastern  horizon,  above  which  hung 
a  black  and  threatening  cloud. 

Stewart  pulled  himself  to  a  sitting  posture  and 
stared  for  a  moment  at  the  cloud  as  it  billowed 
in  the  wind.  Then  he  passed  his  hand  before  his 
eyes  and  stared  again.  And  suddenly  all  his  strength 
seemed  to  go  from  him  and  he  lay  quietly  down 
again. 

"  So  bad  as  that  1  "  said  the  officer,  sympatheti 
cally,  struck  by  the  whiteness  of  his  face.  "  And  I 
have  nothing  to  give  you — not  a  swallow  of  wine — 
not  a  sip !  " 

"  It  will  pass,"  said  Stewart,  hoarsely.  "  I  shall 
be  all  right  presently.  But  I  do  not  understand 
French  very  well.  Do  you  speak  English  ?  " 

"  A  lit-tle,"  answered  the  other,  and  spoke  there 
after  in  a  mixture  of  French  and  English,  which 
Stewart  found  intelligible,  but  which  need  not  be  in 
dicated  here. 

"Will  you  tell  me  what  happened?"  Stewart 
asked,  at  last. 

"  Ah,  we  drove  them  out !  "  cried  the  captain,  his 
face  gleaming.  "  My  men  behaved  splendidly — they 
are  brave  boys,  as  you  yourself  saw.  We  made  it — 
how  you  say? — too  hot  for  the  Germans;  but  we 
could  not  remain.  They  were  pushing  up  in  force 


A  TRUST  FULFILLED  287 

on  every  side,  and  they  had  set  fire  to  the  place.  So 
we  took  up  our  wounded  and  fell  back.  At  the  last 
moment,  I  happen  to  remember  that  I  had  seen  you 
dodging  along  the  street  in  face  of  the  German  fire, 
so  I  look  for  you  in  this  house  and  in  that.  At  last  I ' 
find  you  in  a  room  full  of  smoke,  lying  across  a 
bench,  and  I  bring  you  away.  Now  we  wait  for 
another  attack.  It  will  come  soon — our  scouts  have 
seen  the  Germans  preparing  to  advance.  Then  we 
fight  as  long  as  we  can  and  kill  as  many  as  we  can, 
and  then  give  back  to  a  new  position.  That,  over 
and  over  again,  will  be  our  part  in  this  war — to  hold 
them  until  France  has  time  to  strike.  But  I  pity  my 
poor  country,"  and  his  face  grew  dark.  "  There 
will  be  little  left  of  her  when  those  barbarians  have 
finished.  They  are  astounded  that  we  fight,  that  we 
dare  oppose  them;  they  are  maddened  that  we  hold 
them  back,  for  time  means  everything  to  them. 
They  revenge  themselves  by  burning  our  villages  and 
killing  defenseless  people.  Ah,  well,  they  shall  pay! 
Tell  me,  my  friend,"  he  added,  in  another  tone, 
"  why  did  you  risk  death  in  that  reckless  fashion  ? 
Why  did  you  kneel  beside  that  bench  ?  " 

"  It  was  there  I  left  my  comrade,"  Stewart  an 
swered,  brokenly,  his  face  convulsed.  "  She  was 
wounded — she  could  not  walk — I  was  too  exhausted 


288         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

to  carry  her — I  went  to  look  for  a  cart — for  an  am 
bulance — I  had  scarcely  taken  a  step,  when  the  Ger 
mans  swept  over  the  barricade  and  into  the  town. 
When  I  got  back  to  the  house  where  I  had  left  her, 
'she  was  not  there." 

"Ah,"  said  the  other,  looking  down  at  Stewart, 
thoughtfully.  "It  was  a  woman,  then?" 

"  Yes." 

"Your  wife?" 

"  She  had  promised  to  become  my  wife,"  and 
Stewart  looked  at  the  other,  steadily. 

:t  You  are  an  American,  are  you  not  ?  " 

"  Yes — I  have  my  passport." 

"  And  Madame — was  she  also  an  American  ?  " 

"  No — she  was  a  Frenchwoman.  She  was  shot 
twice  in  the  leg  as  we  ran  toward  your  barricade — 
seriously — it  was  quite  impossible  for  her  to  walk, 
But  when  I  got  back  to  the  house,  she  was  not  there. 
What  had  happened  to  her?" 

His  companion  gazed  out  over  the  meadows  and 
shook  his  head. 

:'  You  looked  in  the  other  rooms?"  he  asked. 

"Everywhere — all  through  the  house — she  was 
not  there!  Ah,  and  I  remember  now,"  he  added, 
struggling  to  a  sitting  posture,  his  face  more  livid,  if 
possible,  than  it  had  been  before.  "  There  was  a 


A  TRUST  FULFILLED  289 

great  bloodstain  on  the  floor  that  was  not  there 
when  I  left  her.  How  could  it  have  got  there?  I 
cannot  understand !  " 

Again  the  officer  shook  his  head,  his  eyes  still  on 
the  billowing  smoke. 

"  It  is  very  strange,"  he  murmured. 

"  I  must  go  back !  "  cried  Stewart.  "  I  must 
search  for  her !  "  and  he  tried  to  rise. 

The  other  put  out  a  hand  to  stop  him,  but  drew  it 
back,  seeing  it  unnecessary. 

"Impossible!"  he  said.  "You  see,  you  cannot 
even  stand !  " 

"  I  have  had  nothing  to  eat  since  yesterday," 
Stewart  explained.  "  Then  only  some  eggs  and  ap 
ples.  If  I  could  get  some  food " 

He  broke  off,  his  chin  quivering  helplessly,  as  he 
realized  his  weakness.  He  was  very  near  to  tears. 

"  Even  if  you  could  walk,"  the  other  pointed  out, 
"  even  if  you  were  quite  strong,  it  would  still  be 
impossible.  The  Germans  have  burned  the  village; 
they  are  now  on  this  side  of  it.  If  Madame  is  still 
alive,  she  is  safe.  Barbarians  as  they  are,  they 
would  not  kill  a  wounded  woman !  " 

"  Oh,  you  don't  know !  "  groaned  Stewart.  "  You 
don't  know !  They  would  kill  her  without  compunc 
tion  !  "  and  weakness  and  hunger  and  despair  were 


290        THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

too  much  for  him.  He  threw  himself  forward  on 
his  face,  shaken  by  great  sobs. 

The  little  officer  sat  quite  still,  his  face  very  sad. 
There  was  no  glory  about  war — that  was  merely  a 
fiction  to  hold  soldiers  to  their  work;  it  was  all  hor 
rible,  detestable,  inhuman.  He  had  seen  brave  men 
killed,  torn,  mutilated;  he  had  seen  inoffensive  peo 
ple  driven  from  their  homes  and  left  to  starve;  he 
had  seen  women  weeping  for  their  husbands  and 
children  for  their  fathers;  he  had  seen  terror  stalk 
across  the  quiet  countryside — famine,  want,  de 
spair 

The  paroxysm  passed,  and  Stewart  gradually  re 
gained  his  self-control. 

"  You  will,  of  course,  do  as  you  think  best,"  said 
his  companion,  at  last;  "but  I  could  perhaps  be  of 
help  if  I  knew  more.  How  do  you  come  to  be  in 
these  rags?  Why  was  Madame  dressed  as  a  man? 
Why  should  the  Germans  kill  her  ?  These  are  things 
that  I  should  like  to  know — but  you  will  tell  me  as 
much  or  as  little  as  you  please." 

Before  he  was  well  aware  of  it,  so  hungry  was  he 
for  comfort,  Stewart  found  himself  embarked  upon 
the  story.  It  flowed  from  his  lips  so  rapidly,  so 
brokenly,  as  poignant  memory  stabbed  through  him, 
that  more  than  once  his  listener  stopped  him  and 


A  TRUST  FULFILLED  291 

asked  him  to  repeat.  For  the  rest,  he  sat  staring  out 
at  the  burning  village,  his  eyes  bright,  his  hands 
clenched. 

And  when  the  story  was  over,  he  arose,  faced  the 
east,  and  saluted  stiffly. 

"  Madame!  "  he  said — and  so  paid  her  the  highest 
tribute  in  a  soldier's  power. 

Then  he  sat  down  again,  and  there  was  a  mo 
ment's  silence. 

"  What  you  have  told  me,"  he  said,  slowly,  at 
last,  "  moves  me  beyond  words !  Believe  me,  I 
would  advance  this  instant,  I  would  risk  my  whole 
command,  if  I  thought  there  was  the  slightest  chance 
of  rescuing  that  intrepid  and  glorious  woman.  But 
there  is  no  chance.  That  village  is  held  by  at  least 
a  regiment." 

"  What  could  have  happened  ?  "  asked  Stewart, 
again.  "  Where  could  she  have  gone?  " 

"  I  cannot  imagine.  I  can  only  hope  that  she  is 
safe.  Most  probably  she  has  been  taken  prisoner. 
Even  in  that  case,  there  is  little  danger  that  she 
will  ever  be  recognized." 

"  But  why  should  they  take  prisoner  a  wounded 
civilian  ?  "  Stewart  persisted.  "  I  cannot  under 
stand  it — unless " 

His  voice  died  in  his  throat. 


THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

"  Unless  what  ? "  asked  the  officer,  turning  on 
him  quickly.  "  What  is  it  you  fear  ?  " 

"  Unless  she  was  recognized ! "  cried  Stewart, 
hoarsely. 

But  the  other  shook  his  head. 

"  If  she  had  been  recognized — which  is  most  im 
probable — she  would  not  have  been  taken  pris 
oner  at  all.  She  would  have  been  shot  where  she 
lay." 

And  then  again  that  dark  stain  upon  the  floor 
flashed  before  Stewart's  eyes.  Perhaps  that  had 
really  happened.  Perhaps  that  blood  was  hers! 

"  It  is  the  suspense !  "  he  groaned.  "  The  dam 
nable  suspense ! " 

"  I  know,"  said  the  other,  gently.  "  It  is  always 
the  missing  who  cause  the  deepest  anguish.  One 
can  only  wait  and  hope  and  pray !  That  is  all  that 
you  can  do — that  and  one  other  thing." 

"  What  other  thing  ?  "  Stewart  demanded. 

"  She  intrusted  you  with  a  mission,  did  she  not?  " 
asked  the  little  captain,  gently.  "  Living  or  dead, 
she  would  be  glad  to  know  that  you  fulfilled  it,  for  it 
was  very  dear  to  her.  You  still  have  the  let 
ters?" 

Stewart  thrust  his  hand  into  his  pocket  and 
brought  them  forth. 


A  TRUST  FULFILLED  293 

"  You  are  right,"  he  said,  and  rose  unsteadily. 
"Where  will  I  find  General  Joffre?" 

The  other  had  risen,  too,  and  was  supporting  him 
with  a  strong  hand. 

"That  I  do  not  know,"  he  answered;  "some 
where  along  the  French  frontier,  no  doubt,  muster 
ing  his  forces." 

Stewart  looked  about  him  uncertainly. 

"  If  I  were  only  stronger,"  he  began. 

"  Wait,"  the  little  officer  broke  in.  "  I  think  I 
have  it — I  am  expecting  instructions  from  our  head 
quarters  at  St.  Trond — they  should  arrive  at  any 
moment — and  I  can  send  you  back  in  the  car  which 
brings  them.  At  headquarters  they  will  be  able  to 
tell  you  something  definite,  and  perhaps  to  help  you." 
He  glanced  anxiously  toward  the  east  and  then  cast 
an  appraising  eye  over  the  intrenchments  his  troops 
had  dug.  "  We  can  hold  them  back  for  a  time,"  he 
added,  "  but  we  need  reinforcements  badly.  Ah, 
there  comes  the  car !  " 

A  powerful  gray  motor  spun  down  the  road  from 
the  west,  kicking  up  a  great  cloud  of  dust,  and  in  a 
moment  the  little  captain  had  received  his  instruc 
tions.  He  tore  the  envelope  open  and  read  its  con 
tents  eagerly.  Then  he  turned  to  his  men,  his  face 
shining. 


294        THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

"  The  Sixty-third  will  be  here  in  half  an  hour!  " 
he  shouted.  "  We  will  give  those  fellows  a  hot  dose 
this  time!" 

His  men  cheered  the  news  with  waving  shakos, 
then,  with  a  glance  eastward,  fell  to  work  again  on 
their  trenches,  which  would  have  to  be  extended  to 
accommodate  the  reinforcements.  Their  captain 
stepped  close  to  the  side  of  the  purring  car,  made  his 
report  to  an  officer  who  sat  beside  the  driver,  and 
then  the  two  carried  on  for  a  moment  a  low-toned 
conversation.  More  than  once  they  glanced  at  Stew 
art,  and  the  conversation  ended  with  a  sharp  nod 
from  the  officer  in  the  car.  The  other  came  hurry 
ing  back. 

"  It  is  all  right,"  he  said.  "  You  will  be  at  St. 
Trond  in  half  an  hour,"  and  he  helped  him  to  mount 
into  the  tonneau. 

For  an  instant  Stewart  stood  there,  staring  back 
at  the  cloud  of  smoke  above  the  burning  village; 
then  he  dropped  into  the  seat  and  turned  to  say 
good-by  to  the  gallant  fellow  who  had  proved  so 
true  a  friend. 

The  little  soldier  was  standing  with  heels  together, 
head  thrown  back,  hand  at  the  visor  of  his  cap. 

"Monsieur!"  he  said,  simply,  as  his  eyes  met 
Stewart's,  and  then  the  car  started. 


A  TRUST  FULFILLED  295 

Stewart  looked  back  through  a  mist  of  tears,  and 
waved  his  hand  to  that  martial  little  figure,  so 
hopeful  and  indomitable.  Should  he  ever  see  that 
gallant  friend  again?  Chance  was  all  against  it. 
( An  hour  hence,  he  might  be  lying  in  the  road,  a  bul 
let  through  his  heart;  if  not  an  hour  hence,  then  to 
morrow  or  next  day.  And  before  this  war  was  over, 
how  many  others  would  be  lying  so,  arms  flung  wide, 
eyes  staring  at  the  sky — just  as  those  young  Ger 
mans  had  lain  back  yonder ! 

He  thrust  such  thoughts  away.  They  were  too 
bitter,  too  terrible.  But  as  his  vision  cleared,  he 
saw  on  every  hand  the  evidence  of  war's  desolation. 

The  road  was  thronged  with  fugitives — old  men, 
women,  and  children — fleeing  westward  away  from 
their  ruined  homes,  away  from  the  plague  which  was 
devastating  their  land.  Their  faces  were  vacant 
with  despair,  or  \vet  with  silent  tears.  For  whither 
could  they  flee?  Where  could  they  hope  for  food 
and  shelter?  How  could  their  journey  end,  save  at 
the  goal  of  death? 

The  car  threaded  its  way  slowly  among  these 
heart-broken  people,  passed  through  silent  and  de 
serted  villages,  by  fields  of  grain  that  would  never 
be  harvested,  along  quiet  streams  which  would  soon 
be  red  with  blood ;  and  at  last  it  came  to  St.  Trond, 


296        THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

and  stopped  before  the  town-hall,  from  whose  beau 
tiful  old  belfry  floated  the  Belgian  flag. 

"  If  you  will  wait  here,  sir,"  said  the  officer,  and 
jumped  to  the  pavement  and  hurried  up  the  steps. 

So  Stewart  waited,  an  object  of  much  curiosity 
to  the  passing  crowd.  Other  cars  dashed  up  from 
time  to  time,  officers  jumped  out  with  reports, 
jumped  in  again  with-  orders  and  dashed  away. 
Plainly,  Belgium  was  not  dismayed  even  in  face  of 
this  great  invasion.  She  was  fighting  coolly,  intelli 
gently,  with  her  whole  strength. 

And  then  an  officer  came  down  the  steps,  sprang 
to  the  footboard  of  the  machine,  and  looked  at 
Stewart. 

"  I  am  told  you  have  a  message,"  he  said. 

"  Yes." 

"I  am  a  member  of  the  French  staff.  Can  you 
deliver  it  to  me  ?  " 

"  I  was  told  to  deliver  it  only  to  General  Joffre." 

"  Ah !  in  that  case " 

The  officer  caught  his  lower  lip  between  the  thumb 
and  little  finger  of  his  left  hand,  as  if  in  perplexity. 
So  naturally  was  it  done  that  for  an  instant  Stew 
art  did  not  recognize  the  sign;  then,  hastily,  he 
passed  his  left  hand  across  his  eyes. 

The  officer  looked  at  him  keenly. 


A  TRUST  FULFILLED  297 

"  Have  we  not  met  before?"  he  asked. 

"  In  Berlin ;  on  the  twenty-second,"  Stewart  an 
swered. 

i  The  officer's  face  cleared,  and  he  stepped  over  the 
door  into  the  tonneau. 

"  I  am  at  your  service,  sir,"  he  said.  "  First  you 
must  rest  a  little,  and  have  some  clean  clothes,  and  a 
bath  and  food.  I  can  see  that  you  have  had  a  hard 
time.  Then  we  will  set  out." 

An  hour  later,  more  comfortable  in  body  than  it 
had  seemed  possible  he  could  ever  be  again,  Stewart 
lay  back  among  the  deep  cushions  of  a  high-powered 
car,  which  whizzed  southward  along  a  pleasant  road. 
He  did  not  know  his  destination.  He  had  not  in 
quired,  and  indeed  he  did  not  care.  But  had  he 
known  Belgium,  he  would  have  recognized  Landen 
and  Ramillies;  he  would  have  known  that  those 
high  white  cliffs  ahead  bordered  the  Meuse;  he 
would  have  seen  that  this  pinnacled  town  they  were 
approaching  was  Namur. 

,  The  car  was  stopped  at  the  city  gate  by  a  sentry, 
and  taken  to  the  town-hall,  where  the  chauffeur's 
papers  were  examined  and  verified.  Then  they  were 
off  again,  across  the  placid  river  and  straight 
southward,  close  beside  its  western  bank.  Stewart 
had  never  seen  a  more  beautiful  country.  The  other 


298         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

shore  was  closed  in  by  towering  rugged  cliffs,  with 
a  white  villa  here  and  there  squeezed  in  between  wall 
and  water  or  perched  on  a  high  ledge.  Sometimes 
the  cliffs  gave  back  to  make  room  for  a  tiny,  red- 
roofed  village;  again  they  were  riven  by  great  fis 
sures  or  pitted  with  yawning  chasms. 

Evening  came,  and  still  the  car  sped  southward. 
There  were  no  evidences  here  of  war.  As  the  calm 
stars  came  out  one  by  cne,  Stewart  could  have  fan 
cied  that  it  was  all  a  dream,  but  for  that  dull  agony 
of  the  spirit  which  he  felt  would  never  leave  him — • 
and  for  that  strand  of  lustrous  hair  which  now  lay 
warm  above  his  heart — and  which,  alas !  was  all  he 
had  of  her ! 

Yes — there  were  the  two  letters  which  rustled 
under  his  fingers  as  he  thrust  them  into  his  pocket. 
He  had  looked  at  them  more  than  once  during  the 
afternoon,  delighting  to  handle  them  because  they 
had  been  hers,  imagining  that  he  could  detect  on 
them  the  faint  aroma  of  her  presence.  He  had 
turned  them  over  and  over,  had  slipped  out  the  sheets1 
of  closely-written  paper,  and  read  them  through  and 
through,  hoping  for  some  clew  to  the  identity  of 
the  woman  he  had  lost.  It  was  an  added  anguish 
that  he  did  not  even  know  her  name ! 

The  letters  did  not  help  him.     They  contained 


A  TRUST  FULFILLED  299 

nothing  but  innocent,  careless,  light-hearted,  imper 
sonal  gossip,  written  apparently  by  one  young 
woman  to  another.  "  My  dear  cousin,"  they  were 
addressed,  and  Stewart  could  have  wept  at  the  irony 
which  denied  him  even  her  first  name.  They  were 
in  English — excellent  English — a  little  stiff,  perhaps 
— just  such  English  as  she  had  spoken — and  the  en 
velopes  bore  the  superscription,  "  Mrs.  Bradford 
Stewart,  Spa,  Belgium."  But  so  far  as  he  could  see 
they  had  nothing  to  do  with  her — they  were  just  a 
part  of  the  elaborate  plot*  in  which  he  had  been  en 
tangled. 

But  what  secret  could  they  contain ?  A  code?  If 
so,  it  was  very  perfect,  for  nothing  could  be  more 
simple,  more  direct,  more  unaffected  than  the  letters 
themselves.  A  swift  doubt  swept  over  him.  Per 
haps,  once  in  the  presence  of  the  general,  he  would 
find  that  he  had  played  the  fool — that  there  was 
nothing  in  these  letters. 

And  yet  a  woman  had  risked  her  life  for  them. 
Face  to  face  with  death,  she  had  made  him 
swear  to  deliver  them.  Well,  he  would  keep  his 
oath! 

He  was  still  very  tired,  and  at  last  he  lay  back 
among  the  cushions  and  closed  his  eyes  and  tried  to 
sleep. 


300         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

" Halle  la!"  cried  a  sharp  voice. 

The  brakes  squeaked  and  groaned  as  they  were 
jammed  down.  Stewart,  shaken  from  his  nap,  sat 
up  and  looked  about  him.  Ahead  gleamed  the  lights 
of  a  town;  he  could  hear  a  train  rumbling  past  along 
the  river  bank. 

There  was  a  moment's  colloquy  between  the  chauf 
feur  and  a  man  in  uniform;  a  paper  was  examined 
by  the  light  of  an  electric  torch;  then  the  ma>.i 
stepped  to  one  side  and  the  car  started  slowly  ahead. 

The  rumbling  train  came  to  a  stop,  and  Stewart, 
rubbing  his  eyes,  saw  a  regiment  of  soldiers  leaping 
from  it  down  to  a  long,  brilliantly-lighted  platform. 
They  wore  red  trousers  and  long  blue  coats  folded 
back  in  front — and  with  a  shock,  Stewart  realized 
that  they  were  French — that  these  were  the  men  who 
were  soon  to  face  those  gray-clad  legions  back  yon 
der.  Then,  above  the  entrance  to  the  station,  its 
name  flashed  into  view, — "  Givet."  They  had 
passed  the  frontier — they  were  in  France. 

The  car  rolled  on,  crossed  the  river  by  ,1  long 
bridge,  and  finally  came  to  a  stop  before  a  great, 
barn-like  building,  every  window  of  which  blazed 
with  light,  and  where  streams  of  officers  were  con 
stantly  arriving  and  departing. 

At  once  a  sentry  leaped  upon  the  footboard ;  again 


A  TRUST  FULFILLED  301 

the  chauffeur  produced  his  paper,  and  an  officer  was 
summoned,  who  glanced  at  it,  and  immediately 
stepped  back  and  threw  open  the  door  of  the  ton- 
neau. 

"  This  way,  sir,  if  you  please,"  he  said  to  Stewart. 

As  the  latter  rose  heavily,  stiff  with  long  sitting, 
the  officer  held  out  his  arm  and  helped  him  to  alight. 

"  You  are  very  tired,  is  it  not  so  ?  "  he  asked,  and 
still  supporting  him,  led  the  way  up  the  steps,  along 
a  hall,  and  into  a  long  room  where  many  persons 
were  sitting  on  benches  against  the  walls  or  slowly 
walking  up  and  down.  "  You  will  wait  here,"  added 
his  guide.  "  It  will  not  be  long,"  and  he  hurried 
away. 

Stewart  dropped  upon  a  bench  and  looked  about 
him.  There  were  a  few  women  in  the  room — and 
he  wondered  at  their  presence  there — but  most  of  its 
occupants  were  men,  some  in  uniform,  others  in 
civilian  dress  of  the  most  diverse  kinds,  of  all  grades 
of  society.  Stewart  was  struck  at  once  by  the  fact 
that  they  were  all  silent,  exchanging  not  a  word,  not 
even  a  glance.  Each  kept  his  eyes  to  himself  as  if 
it  were  a  point  of  honor  so  to  do. 

Suddenly  Stewart  understood.  These  were 
agents  of  the  secret  service,  waiting  to  report  to  their 
chief  or  to  be  assigned  to  some  difficult  and  danger- 


302        THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

ous  task.  One  by  one  they  were  summoned,  dis 
appeared  through  the  door,  and  did  not  return. 

At  last  it  was  to  Stewart  the  messenger  came. 

"  This  way,  sir,"  he  said. 

Stewart  followed  him  out  into  the  hall,  through  a 
door  guarded  by  two  sentries,  and  into  a  little  room 
beyond  a  deep  ante-chamber,  where  a  white-haired 
man  sat  before  a  great  table  covered  with  papers. 
The  messenger  stood  aside  for  Stewart  to  pass,  then 
went  swiftly  out  and  closed  the  door. 

The  man  at  the  table  examined  his  visitor  with  a 
long  and  penetrating  glance,  his  face  cold,  impassive, 
expressionless. 

'  You  are  not  one  of  ours,"  he  said,  at  last,  in 
English. 

"  No,  I  am  an  American." 

"  So  I  perceived.    And  yet  you  have  a  message  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  How  came  you  by  it  ?  " 

"  It  was  intrusted  to  me  by  one  of  your  agents 
who  joined  me  at  Aix-la-Chapelle." 

A  sudden  flame  of  excitement  blazed  into  the 
cold  eyes. 

"May  I  ask  your  name?" 

"Bradford  Stewart." 

The  man  snatched  up  a  memorandum  from  the 


A  TRUST  FULFILLED  303 

desk  and  glanced  at  it.  Then  he  sprang  to  his 
feet. 

"  Your  pardon,  Mr.  Stewart,"  he  said.  "  I  did  not 
catch  your  name — or,  if  I  did,  my  brain  did  not 
supply  the  connection,  as  it  should  have  done.  My 
only  excuse  is  that  I  have  so  many  things  to  think  of. 
Pray  sit  down,"  and  he  drew  up  a  chair.  "  Where 
is  the  person  who  joined  you  at  Aix?" 

"  I  fear  that  she  is  dead,"  answered  Stewart,  in  a 
low  voice. 

"  Dead !  "  echoed  the  other,  visibly  and  deeply 
moved.  "  Dead !  But  no,  that  cannot  be !  "  He 
passed  his  hand  feverishly  before  his  eyes.  "  I  will 
hear  your  story  presently — first,  the  message.  It  is 
a  written  one  ?  " 

"  Yes,  in  the  form  of  two  letters." 

"  May  I  see  them  ?  " 

Stewart  hesitated. 

"  I  promised  to  deliver  them  only  to  General 
Joffre,"  he  explained. 

"  I  understand.  But  the  general  is  very  busy.  I 
must  see  the  letters  for  a  moment  before  I  ask  him 
for  an  audience." 

Without  a  word,  Stewart  passed  them  over.  He 
saw  the  flush  of  excitement  with  which  the  other 
looked  at  them;  he  saw  how  his  hand  trembled  as 


3o4        THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

he  drew  out  the  sheets,  glanced  at  them,  thrust  them 
hastily  back,  and  touched  a  button  on  his  desk. 

Instantly  the  door  opened  and  the  messenger  ap 
peared. 

"  Inquire  of  General  Joffre  if  he  can  see  me  for  a 
moment  on  a  matter  of  the  first  importance,"  said 
the  man.  The  messenger  bowed  and  withdrew. 
"  Yes,  of  the  first  importance,"  he  added,  turning  to 
Stewart,  with  shining  eyes.  "  Here  are  the  letters — 
I  will  not  deprive  you,  sir,  of  the  pleasure  of  your 
self  placing  them  in  our  general's  hands.  And  it  is 
to  him  you  shall  tell  your  story." 

The  door  opened  and  the  messenger  appeared. 

'  The  general  will  be  pleased  to  receive  Monsieur 
at  once,"  he  said,  and  stood  aside  for  them  to  pass. 

At  the  end  of  the  hall  was  a  large  room  crowded 
with  officers.  Beyond  this  was  a  smaller  room 
where  six  men,  each  with  his  secretary,  sat  around  a 
long  table.  At  its  head  sat  a  plump  little  man,  with 
white  hair  and  bristling  white  mustache,  which  con 
trasted  strongly  with  a  face  darkened  and  reddened 
by  exposure  to  wind  and  rain,  and  lighted  by  a  pair 
of  eyes  incredibly  bright 

He  was  busy  with  a  memorandum,  but  looked  up 
as  Stewart  and  his  companion  entered. 

"  Well,  Fernande?"  he  said;  but  Stewart  did  not 


A  TRUST  FULFILLED  305 

know  till  afterward  that  the  man  at  his  side  was  the 
famous  head  of  the  French  Intelligence  Department, 
the  eyes  and  ears  of  the  French  army — captain  of  an 
army  of  his  own,  every  member  of  which  went  daily 
in  peril  of  a  dreadful  death. 

"  General,"  said  Fernande,  in  a  voice  whose  trem 
bling  earnestness  caused  every  man  present  sud 
denly  to  raise  his  head,  "  I  have  the  pleasure  of  in 
troducing  to  you  an  American,  Mr.  Bradford  Stew 
art,  who,  at  great  peril  to  himself,  has  brought  you 
a  message  which  I  believe  to  be  of  the  first  impor 
tance." 

General  Joffre  bowed. 

"  I  am  pleased  to  meet  Mr.  Stewart,"  he  said. 
"  What  is  this  message?  " 

"  It  is  in  these  letters,  sir,"  said  Stewart,  and 
placed  the  envelopes  in  his  hand. 

The  general  glanced  at  them,  then  slowly  drew 
out  the  enclosures. 

"  We  shall  need  a  candle,"  said  Fernande;  "  also 
a  flat  dish  of  water." 

One  of  the  secretaries  hastened  away  to  get  them. 
He  was  back  in  a  moment,  and  Fernande,  having 
lighted  the  candle,  took  from  his  waistcoat  pocket 
a  tiny  phial  of  blue  liquid,  and  dropped  three  drops 
into  the  dish. 


3o6         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

"  Now  we  are  ready,  gentlemen,"  he  said.  "  You 
are  about  to  witness  a  most  interesting  experi 
ment." 

He  picked  up  one  of  the  sheets,  dipped  it  into  the 
water,  then  held  it  close  to  the  flame  of  the  candle. 

Stewart,  watching  curiously,  saw  a  multitude  of 
red  lines  leap  out  upon  the  sheet — lines  which  zig 
zagged  this  way  and  that,  apparently  without  mean 
ing. 

But  to  the  others  in  the  room  they  seemed  any 
thing  but  meaningless.  As  sheet  followed  sheet,  the 
whole  staff  crowded  around  the  head  of  the  table, 
snatching  them  up,  holding  them  to  the  light,  bend 
ing  close  to  decipher  minute  writing.  Their  eyes 
were  shining  with  excitement,  their  hands  were 
trembling;  they  spoke  in  broken  words,  in  bits  of 
sentences. 

"  The  enceinte " 

"  Oh,  a  new  bastion  here  at  the  left " 

"  I  thought  so " 

:<  Three  emplacements " 

"  But  this  wall  is  simply  a  mask — it  would  pre 
sent  no  difficulties " 

'  This  position  could  be  flanked " 

It  was  the  general  himself  who  spoke  the  final 
word. 


A  TRUST  FULFILLED  307 

"  This  is  the  weak  spot,"  he  pointed  out,  his  finger 
upon  the  last  sheet  of  all.  Then  he  turned  to  Stew 
art,  his  eyes  gleaming.  "  Monsieur,"  he  said,  "  I 
will  not  conceal  from  you  that  these  papers  are,  as 
Fernande  guessed,  of  the  very  first  importance. 
Will  you  tell  us  how  they  came  into  your  posses 
sion?" 

And  Stewart,  as  briefly  as  might  be,  told  the  story 
— the  meeting  at  Aix,  the  arrest  at  Herbesthal,  the 
flight  over  the  hills,  the  passage  of  the  Meuse,  the 
attack  on  the  village — his  voice  faltering  at  the  end 
despite  his  effort  to  control  it. 

At  first,  the  staff  had  kept  on  with  its  examina 
tion  of  the  plans,  but  first  one  and  then  another  laid 
them  down  and  listened. 

For  a  moment  after  he  had  finished,  they  sat 
silent,  regarding  him.  Then  General  Joffre  rose 
slowly  to  his  feet,  and  the  members  of  his  staff  rose 
with  him. 

"  Monsieur,"  he  said,  "  I  shall  not  attempt  to  tell 
you  how  your  words  have  moved  me;  but  on  behalf 
of  France  I  thank  you;  on  her  behalf  I  give  you 
the  highest  honor  which  it  is  in  her  power  to 
bestow."  His  hand  went  to  his  buttonhole  and 
detached  a  tiny  red  ribbon.  In  a  moment  he 
had  affixed  it  to  Stewart's  coat.  "  The  Legion, 


3o8         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

monsieur ! "  he  said,  and  he  stepped  back  and 
saluted. 

Stewart,  a  mist  of  tears  before  his  eyes,  his  throat 
suddenly  contracted,  looked  down  at  the  decoration, 
gleaming  on  his  lapel  like  a  spot  of  blood. 

"  It  is  too  much,"  he  protested,  brokenly.  "  I  do 
not  deserve " 

"  It  is  the  proudest  order  in  the  world,  monsieur," 
broke  in  the  general,  "  but  it  is  not  too  much.  You 
have  done  for  France  a  greater  thing  than  you  per 
haps  imagine.  Some  day  you  will  know.  Not  soon, 
I  fear,"  and  his  face  hardened.  "  We  have  other 
work  to  do  before  we  can  make  use  of  these  sheets 
of  paper.  You  saw  the  German  army?  " 

"  Yes,  sir;  a  part  of  it." 

"  It  is  well  equipped?" 

"  It  seemed  to  me  irresistible,"  said  Stewart.  "  I 
had  never  imagined  such  swarms  of  men,  such  tre 
mendous  cannon " 

"  We  have  heard  something  of  those  cannon," 
broke  in  the  general.  "  Are  they  really  so  tre 
mendous  ?  " 

"  I  know  nothing  about  cannon,"  answered  Stew 
art  ;  "  but "  and  he  described  as  well  as  he  could 

the  three  monsters  he  had  seen  rolling  along  the  road 
toward  Liege. 


A  TRUST  FULFILLED  309 

His  hearers  listened  closely,  asked  a  question  or 
two 

"  I  thank  you  again,"  said  the  general,  at  last. 
"  What  you  tell  us  is  most  interesting.  Is  there  any 
thing  else  that  I  can  do  for  you?  If  there  is,  I  pray 
you  to  command  me." 

Stewart  felt  himself  shaken  by  a  sudden  convul 
sive  trembling. 

"  If  I  could  get  some  news,"  he  murmured, 
brokenly,  "  of — of  my  little  comrade." 

General  Joffre  shot  him  a  quick  glance.  His  face 
softened,  grew  tender  with  comprehension. 

"  Fernande,"  he  said. 

Fernande  bowed. 

"  Everything  possible  shall  be  done,  my  general," 
he  said.  "  I  promise  it.  We  shall  not  be  long  with 
out  tidings." 

;      "Thank  you,"   said   Stewart.     "That   is   all,   I 
think." 

"And  you?" 

"  I  ?  Oh,  what  does  it  matter ! "  And  then  he 
turned,  fired  by  a  sudden  remembrance  of  a  great 
white  tent,  of  loaded  ambulances.  "  Yes — there  is 
something  I  might  do.  I  am  a  surgeon.  Will 
France  accept  my  services  ?  " 

"  She  is  honored  to  do  so,"  said  the  general, 


3io         THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

quickly.  "  I  will  see  that  it  is  done.  Until  to 
morrow — I  will  expect  you,"  and  he  held  out  his 
hand,  while  the  staff  came  to  a  stiff  salute. 

"  Until  to-morrow,"  repeated  Stewart,  and  fol 
lowed  Fernande  to  the  door. 

As  he  passed  out,  he  glanced  behind  him.  The 
members  of  the  staff  were  bending  above  those  red- 
lined  sheets,  their  faces  shining  with  eagerness 

The  officers  in  the  outer  room,  catching  sight  of 
the  red  ribbon,  saluted  as  he  passed.  The  sentry 
in  the  hall  came  stiffly  to  attention. 

But  Stewart's  heart  was  bitter.  Honor!  Glory! 
What  were  they  worth  to  him  alone  and  deso 
late 

"  Monsieur !  "  It  was  Fernande's  voice,  low,  vi 
brant  with  sympathy.  "  You  will  pardon  me  for 
what  I  am  about  to  say — but  I  think  I  understand. 
It  was  not  alone  for  France  you  did  this  thing — it 
was  for  that '  little  comrade/  as  you  have  called  her, 
so  brave,  so  loyal,  so  indomitable  that  my  heart  is 
at  her  feet.  Is  it  not  so?" 

He  came  a  step  nearer  and  laid  a  tender  hand  on 
Stewart's  arm. 

"  Do  not  despair,  I  beg  of  you,  my  friend.  She  is 
not  dead — it  is  impossible  that  she  should  be  dead ! 
Fate  could  not  be  so  cruel.  With  her  you  shared  a 


A  TRUST  FULFILLED  311 

few  glorious  days  of  peril,  of  trial,  and  of  ecstasy — 
then  you  were  whirled  apart.  But  only  for  a  time. 
Somewhere,  sometime,  you  will  find  her  again, 
awaiting  you.  I  know  it !  I  feel  it !  " 

But  it  was  no  longer  Fernande  that  Stewart  heard 
— it  was  another  voice,  subtle,  delicate,  out  of  the 
unknown 

His  bosom  lifted  with  a  deep,  convulsive  breath. 

"  You  are  right !  "  he  whispered.  "  I,  too,  feel  it ! 
Sometime — somewhere " 

And  his  trembling  fingers  sought  that  tress  of 
lustrous  hair,  warm  above  his  heart. 


CHAPTER    XVII 
"LITTLE   COMRADE" 

IN  the  first  flush  of  the  August  aawn,  Stewart 
opened  his  eyes  and  gazed  vacantly  about  the  room 
of  the  little  inn  to  which  he  had  been  assigned. 
Then  memory  returned,  and  he  groaned  and  closed 
his  eyes  and  turned  his  face  to  the  wall.  But  only 
for  a  moment.  Perhaps  there  was  some  news — « 
something  he  could  do 

He  started  to  spring  out  of  bed,  only  to  sink: 
wearily  back  again.  What  was  there  he  could  pos 
sibly  do?  And  news — news  was  to  be  dreaded 
rather  than  desired.  So  long  as  he  did  not  know — 
well,  he  could  still  hope,  and  that  was  something  \ 
However  faintly,  however  unreasonably,  he  could 
still  hope ! 

So  he  lay  back  against  his  pillows  and  closed  his 
eyes,  and  lived  over  again  those  shining  days,  those  • 
radiant  hours.     How  happy  he  had  been!     And 
that,   too,   was   something.     Whatever  the   future 
might  bring,  it  could  not  rob  him  of  the  past     It 

312 


"LITTLE  COMRADE"  313 

could  not  rob  him  of  those  last  delirious  moments — 
her  lips  on  his — her  arms  about  him  .  .  . 

A  tap  on  the  door  startled  him  out  of  his 
thoughts.  News  .  .  . 

"  Come  in !  "  he  shouted. 

But  it  was  only  the  landlady.  She  entered  with 
Smiling  face,  a  can  of  steaming  water  in  her  hand. 

"  Good-morning,  monsieur,"  she  said.  "  I  hope 
monsieur  has  slept  well.  Will  monsieur  have  his 
coffee  before  rising?  " 

"  No,  no,"  said  Stewart.    "  I  will  come  down." 

''  Very  well,  monsieur,"  and  she  placed  the  can 
upon  the  wash-stand  and  closed  the  door. 

If  it  were  not  that  the  movements  of  the  toilet 
are  largely  automatic,  Stewart  would  never  have 
finished  his,  but  he  was  washed  and  dressed  at  last, 
and  descended  to  the  cafe  \vhich  served  also  as  the 
dining-room.  It  was  crowded  to  the  doors  with 
vociferous  French  soldiers,  very  weary  and  very 
dirty,  and  all  clamoring  to  be  served  at  once.  Their 
)  claims  were  greater  than  his,  Stewart  thought,  and 
)  after  all  it  wouldn't  harm  him  to  go  breakf astless ; 
but  just  then  the  landlady  appeared  again,  and  drew 
him  through  a  door  opening  behind  the  bar. 

"  This  way,  monsieur,"  she  said.  "  I  have  a  little 
table  for  you  here  in  the  court." 

A  spasm  of  memory  clutched  Stewart's  heart  as 
he  saw  the  snowy  table  set  in  a  shady  corner,  and 
he  drank  his  coffee  and  ate  his  rolls  and  honey  like 
a  man  in  a  dream. 


3 14        THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

"  Monsieur  Stewart  ?  "  asked  a  voice. 

He  looked  up  to  find  a  French  officer  standing  at 
his  elbow. 

"  Yes,"  he  said.    "  Pardon  me ;  I  did  not  see  you." 

"  Monsieur  was  distrait,"  said  the  other,  with  a 
smile.  "  I  have  a  message,"  and  he  held  out  a  large, 
square  envelope. 

With  a  hand  whose  trembling  he  could  not  con 
trol,  Stewart  tore  open  the  envelope  and  unfolded 
the  note  within.  It  was  very  brief : 

DEAR  MONSIEUR  STEWART: 

There  is  a  distressing  lack  of  surgeons  at  the  Belgian  front, 
and  we  are  sending  all  that  we  can.  I  remember  your  gen 
erous  offer  of  your  services,  and  if  I  may  command  them  I 
trust  that  you  wili  join  the  party  which  is  leaving  at  once. 

Faithfully  yours, 

FERNANDE. 

No  news,  then!  But  here  was  something  he 
could  do — wounds  to  dress — suffering  to  relieve. 

"  I  am  ready,"  he  said,  and  rapped  for  his  bill. 

Half  an  hour  later  he  was  speeding  northward 
again  along  the  valley  of  the  Meuse  toward  Namur, 
in  company  with  two  other  surgeons,  Frenchmen, 
who  seemed  very  thoughtful  and  depressed.  Stew 
art,  who  had  expected  to  find  the  roads  crowded 
with  materiel  and  troop-train  after  troop-train  roll 
ing  northward  to  the  aid  of  struggling  Belgium, 
was  astonished  to  perceive  no  evidences  of  war 
whatever — just  the  same  peaceful  countryside  he 
had  passed  through  the  day  before.  Something  had 
gone  wrong,  then ;  and  he  turned  to  his  companions 


"LITTLE  COMRADE'  315 

for  information,  but  they  only  shrugged  their  shoul 
ders  gloomily  and  shook  their  heads. 

At  Namur  they  left  the  car,  and  the  orderly,  who 
had  told  Stewart  that  his  destination  was  Landen, 
some  distance  farther  on,  came  back  to  sit  with  him 
in  the  tonneau,  evidently  welcoming  the  opportunity 
to  talk  to  some  one.  He  had  spent  two  or  three 
years  as  a  clerk  in  an  uncle's  silk  house  in  Boston, 
and  so  spoke  English  fluently.  He  too  was  gloomy 
about  the  immediate  outlook.  The  French,  it 
seemed,  had  been  caught  off  their  guard — or,  rather, 
while  guarding  themselves  from  the  only  blow 
which  could  legitimately  be  struck  at  them  by  mobi 
lizing  along  the  eastern  frontier,  had  been  stabbed 
in  the  back  by  the  German  attack  through  Belgium. 

The  orderly  said  frankly  that  the  situation  was 
serious — and  was  certain  to  become  more  serious 
before  it  could  improve.  The  mobilization  of  a 
million  men  was  an  intricate  task;  it  would  take 
time  to  swing  the  army  around  from  the  east  to  the 
north— a  week  at  least.  And  it  would  be  impossible 
to  give  the  Belgians  any  real  assistance  before  that 
time.  And  that  would  probably  be  too  late. 

"  Too  late  ?  "  said  Stewart,  in  surprise.  "  Aren't 
the  Belgians  holding?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  they  are  holding,"  his  companion  an 
swered.  "  They  are  fighting  gallantly.  The  forts  at 
Liege  even  have  not  yet  fallen — but  it  can  be  only 
a  matter  of  hours  until  they  do.  Then  the  flood 
will  be  let  loose,  and  all  the  little  Belgian  army  can 


3i6        THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

hope  to  do  is  to  fight  delaying  rear-guard  actions  as 
it  retreats." 

"  Perhaps  the  English  can  get  in,"  Stewart  sug 
gested. 

"  The  English?  But  England  has  no  army — or, 
at  best,  a  mere  handful  of  regulars.  Perhaps  in  two 
years  she  will  be  able  to  do  something." 

"  Two  years  ?  "  echoed  Stewart,  staring  at  his 
companion  to  see  if  he  was  in  earnest.  "  Do  you 
-eally  think  this  war  can  last  that  long?  " 

"  It  will  last  longer  than  that,"  the  other  answered 
composedly.  "  It  will  last  until  Germany  is  totally 
defeated — it  will  last  till  she  is  freed  from  slavery 
o  the  military  caste — until  the  Hohenzollerns  are 
driven  from  the  throne.  And  that  will  take  a  long 
time." 

"  Yes,"  agreed  Stewart.  "  From  what  I  have  seen 
of  the  German  army,  I  should  say  it  would !  " 

The  Frenchman  looked  at  him  quickly. 

'  You  have  seen  the  German  army  ?  " 

'  Yes,"  and  Stewart  told  something  of  his  expe 
rience,  while  the  other  listened  intently. 

"  It  is  this  first  onslaught — this  first  rush — which 
is  dangerous,"  said  the  Frenchman,  when  he  had 
finished.  "  Germany  has  staked  everything  upon 
that — upon  catching  us  unawares  and  winning  the 
war  with  one  swift,  terrible  blow.  If  we  can  es 
cape  that — if  we  can  ward  it  off — we  shall  win.  If 
not — well,  it  will  be  for  England  and  America  to 
free  the  world." 


"LITTLE  COMRADE"  317 

"  America  ?"  echoed  Stewart.     "  Surely   .    .    ." 

"  You  in  America  do  not  understand,"  broke  in 
his  companion,  "  as  we  in  Europe  understand — but 
you  will  before  this  war  is  very  old." 

"  Understand  what?  " 

11  That  this  is  not  a  war  of  nations,  but  a  war  of 
ideals.  It  is  the  last  desperate  struggle  of  medieval 
despotism  to  save  itself  and  to  enslave  the  world. 
If  it  succeeds,  democracy  will  vanish.  Every  free 
nation  will  go  in  fear,  and  one  by  one  will  perish. 
But  it  will  not  succeed — humanity  cannot  permit  it 
to  succeed.  Before  this  war  is  finished,  all  the  free 
peoples  of  the  earth  will  be  banded  together  in  a 
league  of  brotherhood — America  with  all  the  others 
— at  the  head  of  all  the  others.  She  will  be  fighting 
for  her  freedom  as  truly  as  in  her  War  of  Inde 
pendence — and  for  the  freedom  of  all  mankind  as 
well.  She  will  realize  this — she  will  realize  what 
this  black  menace  of  autocracy  means  for  the  world 
— and  she  will  come  in.  She  will  be  with  us,  hand 
in  hand — shoulder  to  shoulder." 

"  Pray  God  it  may  be  so !  "  said  Stewart,  in  a  low 
voice,  but  his  heart  misgave  him. 

How  could  America — that  great,  inchoate  coun 
try,  that  ferment  of  all  the  nations  of  the  world, 
aloof  from  Europe,  guarded  by  three  thousand 
miles  of  sea — be  made  to  understand?  How  could 
she  be  made  to  see  that  this  was  her  fight — specially 
and  peculiarly  her  fight?  How  could  she  be  made 
to  realize  that  Germany's  ruthless  sword  was  slash- 


31*       THE  GIRL  FROM  ALSACE 

ing,  not  at  Belgium  or  France  or  England,  but  at 
the  ideals,  the  principles,  the  very  foundation  stones 
of  the  American  Republic? 

It  seemed  too  much  to  ho^e  for;  but  perhaps, 
some  day  .  .  . 

And  then  he  realized  that  they  were  nearing  the 
place  where  the  first  skirmisji  of  the  great  battle  for 
human  freedom  was  being  fought,  for  the  road  be 
came  so  thronged  with  fugitives  that  the  car  was 
forced  to  slow  down  and  almost  burrow  a  path 
through  the  forlorn  and  panic-stricken  people  toiling 
eastward — eastward — they  knew  not  where — any 
where  away  from  the  stark  horror  behind  them! 
They  were  of  all  sorts — young  and  old,  rich  and 
poor — and  many  of  them  moved  as  in  a  trance,  un 
able  to  understand  the  disaster  which  had  befallen 
them. 

At  last  Stewart  saw  ahead  the  red  roofs  of  a 
little  town. 

"  Landen,"  said  his  companion.  "  It  has  a  very 
large  convent,  which  has  been  turned  into  a  hos 
pital  for  this  whole  section  of  the  front.  All  our 
ambulances  now  discharge  there,  and  naturally  the 
place  is  very  crowded.  The  nuns  have  been  won 
derful,  but  you  have  some  hard  work  ahead." 

"  That's  what  I  want,"  said  Stewart,  with  a  nod. 

The  car  was  bumping  over  the  cobbles  of  the 
town,  and  in  a  moment  stopped  before  a  great,  bar 
rack-like  building,  covering  an  entire  block.  An 
ambulance  was  unloading  at  the  door,  and  Stewart 


"LITTLE  COMRADE"  319- 

caught  a  glimpse  of  a  livid,  anguished  face     .     .     . 

Yes,  here  was  something  he  could  do;  and  he 
followed  his  companion  up  the  steps.  At  the  top 
a  black-coifed  nun  awaited  them. 

"  This  is  Doctor  Stewart,"  said  the  orderly,  and 
added  a  sentence  in  French  so  rapid  that  Stewart 
could  not  follow  it.  But  the  nun  understood  and 
smiled  warmly  and  held  out  her  hand. 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  you,  sir,"  she  said,  in  careful 
English.  "  If  you  will  follow  me,"  and  she  led  the 
way  along  a  white-washed  corridor.  "  Perhaps  you 
will  wish  to  rest  and  refresh  yourself  before " 

"  No,"  Stewart  broke  in.  "  Let  me  get  to  work 
at  once." 

The  nun  smiled  again,  and  opened  the  door  into 
a  little  room  with  a  single  snowy  bed. 

"  If  you  will  wait  here  a  moment,"  she  said,  and 
as  Stewart  entered,  closed  the  door  after  him. 

Not  until  he  was  inside  the  room  did  he  realize 
that  the  bed  had  an  occupant.  Instinctively  he 
turned  toward  the  door. 

"  Oh,  do  not  go !  "  said  a  voice. 

He  stopped,  trembling;  turned  slowly,  incredu 
lously  .  .  . 

Those  luminous  eyes — that  glowing  face — those 
outstretched  arms  .  .  . 

"Little  Comrade!" 

And  he  was  on  his  knees  beside  the  bed,  holding 
her  close — close  .  .  . 

THE   END 


ZANE  GREY'S  NOVELS 

aay  be  had  wherever  books  are  sold.        Ask  for  Grosset  &  Duniap's  list 

THE  LIGHT  OF  WESTERN  STARS 

A  New  York  society  girl  buys  a  ranch  which  becomes  the  center  of  frontier  wai»- 
fare.  Her  loyal  superintendent  rescues  her  when  she  is  captured  by  bandits.  A 
surprising  climax  brings  the  story  to  a  delightful  close. 

VTHE  RAINBOW  TRAIL 

The  story  of  a  young-  clergyman  who  becomes  a  wanderer  in  the  treat  westexO 
uplands— until  at  last  love  and  faith  awake. 

DESERT  GOLD  { 

The  story  describes  the  recent  uprising  along1  the  border,  and  ends  with  the  finding 
of  the  gold  which  two  prospectors  had  willed  to  the  girl  who  is  the  story's  heroin*. 

RIDERS  OF   THE  PURPLE  SAGE 

A  picturesque  romance  of  Utah  of  some  forty  years  ago  when  Mormon  authority 
ruled.  The  prosecution  of  Jane  Withersteen  is  the  theme  of  the  story. 

THE  LAST  OF  THE  PLAINSMEN 

""his  is  the  record  of  a  trip  which  the  author  took  with  Buffalo  Jones,  known  as  th«, 
p.eserver  of  the  American  bison,  across  the  Arizona  desert  and  of  a  hunt  in  "thai 
wonderful  country  of  deep  canons  and  ciant  pines./' 

THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  DESERT 

A  lovely  girl,  who  has  been  reared  among  Mormons,  learns  to  love  a  young  New 
Englander.  The  Mormon  religion,  however,  demands  that  the  girl  shall  become 
the  second  wife  of  one  of  the  Mormons— Well,  that's  the  problem  of  this  great  story 

THE  SHORT  STOP 

The  young  hero,  tiring  of  his  factory  grind,  starts  out  to  win  fame  and  fortune  tf 
ft  professional  ball  player.  His  hard  knocks  at  the  start  are  followed  by  such  SUCCMI 
as  clean  sportsmanship,  courage  and  honesty  ought  to  win. 

BETTY  ZANE 

This  story  tells  of  the  bravery  and  heroism  of  Betty,  the  beautiful  young1  sister  of 
old  Colonel  Zane,  one  of  the  bravest  pioneers. 

THE  LONE  STAR  RANGER 

After  killing  a  roan  in  self  defense,  Buck  Duane  becomes  an  outlaw  along  the 
Texas  border.  In  a  camp  on  the  Mexican  side  of  the  river,  he  finds  a  young  girl  held 
prisoner,  and  in  attempting  to  rescue  her,  brings  down  upon  himself  the  wrath  of  he* 
captors  and  henceforth  is  hunted  on  one  side  by  honest  men,  on  the  other  by  outlaws 

THE  BORDER  LEGION 

Joan  Randle,  in  a  spiri*.  of  anger,  sent  Jim  Cleve  out  to  a  lawless  Western  inuring 
camp,  to  prove  his  mettle.  Then  realizing  that  she  loved  him— she  followed  him  out. 
•  On  her  way,  she  is  captured  by  a  bandit  band,  and  trouble  begins  when  she  shoot* 
Kells,  the  leader— and  nurses  him  to  health  again.  Here  enters  another  romance-^ 
when  Joan,  disguised  as  an  outlaw,  observes  Jim,  in  the  throes  of  dissipation.  A  gold 
Strike,  a  thrilling  robbery— gambling  and  gun  play  carry  you  along  breathlessly. 

THE   LAST  OE  THE  GREAT  SCOUfsT" 
By  Helen  Cody  Wetmore  and  Zane  Grey 

fhe  life  story  of  Colonel  William  F.  Cody,  "  Buffalo  Bill."  as  told  by  his  sister  and 
Zane  Grey.  It  begins  with  his  boyhood  in  Iowa  and  his  first  encounter  with  an  In 
dian.  We  see  "  Bill"  as  a  pony  express  rider,  then  near  fcort  Sumteras  Chief  of 
the  Scouts,  and  later  engaged  in  the  most  dangerous  Indian  campaigns.  There  is 
also  a  very  interesting  account  of  the  travels  of  "The  Wild  West"  Show.  No  char 
acter  In  public  life  makes  a  stronger  r.ppeal  to  the  imagination  of  Amer<ra  than 
"  Buffalo  Bill,"  whose  daring  and  bravery  made  him  famous. 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,        PUBLISHERS,        NEW  YORK 


JACK    LONDON'S    NOVELS 

May  be  had  wherever  books  an  sold.     Ask  for  Cresset  &  Dunlap's  list 

JOHN  BARLEYCORN.    Illustrated  by  H.  T.  Dunn. 

This  remarkable  book  is  a  record  of  the  author's  own  amazing 
experiences.  This  big,  brawny  world  rover,  who  has  been  ac 
quainted  with  alcohol  from  boyhood,  comes  out  boldly  against  John 
Barleycorn.  It  is  a  string  of  exciting  adventures,  yet  it  forcefully 
gonveys  an  unf  orgetable  idea  and  makes  a  typical  Jack  London  boot 

THE  VALLEY  OF  THE  MOON.   Frontispiece  by  George  Harper. 

The  story  opens  in  the  city  slums  where  Billy  Roberts,  teamster 
•nd  ex-prize  fighter,  and  Saxon  Brown,  laundry  worker,  meet  and 
Jove  and  marry.  They  tramp  from  one  end  of  California  to  th« 
other,  and  in  the  Valley  of  the  Moon  find  the  farm  paradise  that  is 
to  be  their  salvation. 

BURNING  DAYLIGHT.    Four  illustrations. 


The  story  of  an  adventurer  who  went  to  Alaska 
foundations  of  his  fortune  before  the  gold  hunters  am  ved.  Bringing 
his  fortunes  to  the  States  he  is  cheated  out  of  it  by  a  crowd  of  money 
kings,  and  recovers  it  only  at  the  muzzle  of  his  gun.  He  then  starts 
out  as  a  merciless  exploiter  on  his  own  account.  Finally  be  takes  to 
drinking  and  becomes  a  picture  of  degeneration.  About  this  tim« 
he  falls  in  love  with  his  stenographer  and  wins  her  heart  but  not 
her  hand  and  then—  but  read  the  story! 

A  SON  OF  THE  SUN.  Illustrated  by  A.  O.  Fischer  and  C.  W.  Ashley. 

David  Grief  was  once  a  light-haired,  blue-eyed  youth  who  cams 
from  England  to  the  South  Seas  in  search  of  adventure.  Tanned 
like  a  native  and  as  lithe  as  a  tiger,  he  became  a  real  son  of  the  sun. 
The  life  appealed  to  him  and  he  remained  and  became  very  wealthy. 
THE  CALL  OF  THE  WILD.  Illustrations  by  Philip  R.  Goodwin  and 
Charles  Livingston  Bull.  Decorations  by  Charles  E.  Hooper. 

A  book  ot  dog  adventures  as  exciting  as  any  man's  exploits 
could  be.    Here  is  excitement  to  stir  the  blood  and  here  is  pictmr- 
••que  color  to  transport  the  reader  to  primitive  scenes.f 
THE  SEA  WOLF.    Illustrated  by  W.  J.  Aylward. 

Told  by  a  man  whom  Fate  suddenly  swings  from  his  fastidiot* 
fife  into  the  power  of  the  brutal  captain  of  a  sealing  schooner.  A 
novel  of  adventure  warmed  by  a  beautiful  love  episode  that  evert 
reader  win  hail  with  delight.  < 

WHITE  FANG.    Illustrated  by  Charles  Livingston  Bull. 

"White  Fang"  is  part  dog,  part  wolf  and  all  brute,  living  in  th» 
froeen  north  ;  he  gradually  comes  under  the  spell  of  man's  com 
panionship,  and  surrenders  all  at  the  last  in  a  right  with  a  bull  doe. 
Thereafter  he  is  man's  loving  slave. 

GROSSET  &   DUNLAP,  PUBLISHERS,    NBW   YORK 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

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